I have, for various reasons, neglected the kitchen garden this winter. When I last visited it, I had given up hope of any of those strange half broccoli, half cauliflower like vegetables, ever appearing among the kale-like leaves of the romanescos, which I sowed in the summer. Today I find they have sprouted magnificently, and though some have gone to seed, there are several for me to harvest.
When I raise the blind in the morning I enjoy seeing the sun coming from behind the house opposite and lighting, with a touch of theatre, just the tops of the evergreen trees in in its drive.
In the Grove, a park attendant is patiently sweeping up some leaves from a path, while some three-year olds are doing their best to put them back. They pick up the leaves and scatter them shouting "Autumn, Autumn", as they do. A parent runs forward; and, though she doesn't go as far as stopping the children, she says "sorry" to the sweeper, who goes on indefaticabily sweeping.