Almost Christmas. . . .
. . . .well, first week of Advent, anyway.
But the birch trees have only just decided that it might be autumn and are finally inclining toward a yellowy orangy colour:
The birches don't seem to mind though. I love birches; with a decent breeze they sound like a rolling surf. I ought to start a society for folks who love birches. I could call it John's Birch Society.
Or maybe not.
Labels: Puttering about in the garden