Imagine, after 20 days of the third wettest (and darkest) December in history, you walk out your front door, into the cold bright sunlight….all bundled up, just to get the mail.
And you spot this late blooming rosebud among the dried out rose hips and naked trees long emptied of their orange and yellow leaves….
“Late Bloomer” indeed.
When I left for India I still had dahlias blooming. So strange.
Sent from my iPhone
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