We seem to veer from hills shrouded in mist to blazingly hot sunshine and the only place to be is stretched on a reclining chair . . . however, to celebrate our golden wedding three years ago we planted a bed of golden flowers

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and today I picked a bouquet of the now established shrubs.

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The bed is beside the fallen giant about which we have written – but that has gone from this

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to this

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and it seemed as though the neighbouring tree which no doubt was held up by the monkey puzzle has bent over its branches as if to protect the now bare and torn out roots. (How fanciful can one get when giving trees personalities?)