Bittersweet October

Was trying to find a nice literary quote online to sum up how October was going, and came up with this.

Bittersweet October. The mellow, messy, leaf-kicking, perfect pause between the opposing miseries of summer and winter.

(Carol Bishop Hipps, In a Southern Garden, 1995)

It just seemed to fit the autumnal experience - one day warm, the next decidedly cool. Leaves everywhere. Sunshine and showers (unfortunately a lot of the latter round here recently). In fact it's been so damp we have tiny mushrooms growing on the drive! And here's the photographic evidence to prove it . . .

The garden is beginning to wind down now for winter, the summer flowers are dying back, although a few autumn specimens can be seen - miniature cyclamen, primroses . . .

. . . kaffir lilies . . .

 . . . and some of the fuschias are still putting on a good show.

The cabbages and sprouts are also recovering nicely from their earlier caterpillar infestations and putting on some growth. The bunnies aren't so evident now, at least they don't venture into the garden quite as much as they did. And the swallows are long gone.  Otherwise the birds are in fine voice, with the Yew Tree acting as bird central; the nuthatch appears to have taken up residence, and there always seems to be something flying in and out.

I was peering through the branches earlier and got a photo of what appears to be a one-legged thrush (although I might be wrong).

Martin also got some good shots of fat robin having a bath . . .

Doubtless October will be over before we know it, and it will be time to get stuck into the accumulated firewood, and light the Rayburn. Halloween is dominating the shop displays at the moment, but it won't be long before Christmas takes over . . . how many shopping days does that leave us?