Elder: after the white flower-saucers, before the purple berries, which hang like miniature bunches of grapes, these little green beads wait for the sun to ripen and the rain to swell them.
My list of post tells me that this is number 1501. That makes 4500 (mostly I hope) beautiful things recorded day by day. Thank you Clare Grant for the idea..
Of such mistakes, of no material importance, are stories made: " Bye..." I say to the woman in the chemists, as I turn to leave. "'Bye..." she says. ""Bye ..." says the woman, who was ahead of me at the counter, turning as she leaves the shop and believing, mistakenly, that one of the "byes" is addressed to her.