Every year the nasturtiums self-seed in one of the vegetable beds in the kitchen garden. By September, they are a riot. They take over an apple tree, a fence, potatoes, a bed of dahlias, some rose bushes, sundry salads and even invade the greenhouse.
In the dentist's waiting room, an elderly man at the reception desk observes to the receptionist as he settles his bill: "It's not physical pain; it's financial."
Looking out from a platform of the railway station, I note the gutter of a house supporting a dense line of grass like a long, thin lawn.