The tangle of dead morning glories is glowing a dull gold: it's almost as though I've sprayed them with some matt gilt paint. And right in the middle is one crimson dried petal - presumably it was originally pink, and has deepened its tint as a result of frost and windchill. In fact, we're having a few warm days (the parsley has resurrected itself spectacularly, and the sage is showing signs of life) - but that doesn't stop me being taken by this little remnant of faded summer.
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