they are not long, the days of wine and roses

Fighting the urge to hibernate, but putting the garden to bed instead. A few flowers remain, some apples left to be picked. A blackbird is feasting on the few musty grapes in the greenhouse....I'm remembering my Dad in his old green jumper that smelled of bonfires, stoking up the leaves in an old incinerator. Leaves go in the compost nowadays. I'm off to burn a few old logs and cook a nice veg chilli instead.