With the rare sunshine we had last week I finally got round to my autumn gardening chores.  It was time to put the garden to bed for the winter.  Just in the nick of time I’d say.  My parents will be horrified to know that it’s been left as late as this.  There’ll be much tut tutting and muttering about how I’m letting the family reputation for gardening down.

The appalling weather is of course my reason for not getting things tidied up earlier but better late than never.

But before all of the hard work to be done there was the obligatory photo record to be snapped.  I couldn’t resist getting close up with one of the few remaining flowers.

Looking back over previous posts, it’s good to see the front garden still in it’s summer glory. But their dash is done for another year and it’s time to get some rest.

Yes, these flowers have served us well for colour and the bees for their pollen. But it’s time for them to be put to another use in the compost where they can live again in another guise.

The great thing about photography is that you can see the same thing from different perspectives.

You can see the broader perspective of the cultivated flowers in the countryside context.

And finally the perspective with the house.  These are big flower beds I can tell you – they looked so small when they were drawn up on the garden plans.

But the beds have now been cleared of this year’s growth and things look rather more bare.  Very much a winter garden.

I do think that it’s a shame when it’s all over. Where there was once flowering beauty it’s now skeletons and only evergreen foliage.

Although here in New Zealand the flowering season can run for quite some time.  The Penstemon is still flowering, or rather was, until I took the clippers to it.

I think I’ll have more penstemons in our new front flower bed.  They seem to flower throughout the summer and don’t want to give up, even when winter arrives.

Yes I’m aiming for more colour in the garden next year.  All the coverage of Chelsea Flower Show has whetted my appetite for a blaze of colour next year.

Yes, my gardening ambitions are growing.

That’s a terrifying thought.  Where will I have time to fit in work.