In fact, it's rather hot outside the back door.
Perhaps a little too hot.
Laundry may be dried outdoors at last.
There's no doubt that the garden has suffered with all the heavy rain. The roses have been battered, and are now mostly dead-headed. There have been terrible casualties in the slug/snail war, and there are areas of bare soil, including that over Tosca's little grave, that await decisions. It's all a bit of a jumble.
But things are rallying.
The Gardener tells me that there is more colour in my little patch than in most of the grander gardens that he has tended in recent months.
It'll do nicely for now. Keep on shining, sun.