August brings the sheaves of corn*,
Then the harvest home is borne.
|*wheat, to you 'Muricans.|
ARGH! - WHERE DOES THE TIME GO? IT'S NEARLY AUTUMN!
|The horse chestnuts - usually first out in leaf, and first to shed - are just starting to turn|
|Prepare the gin!!|
.... Rosehips on the dog roses:
And berries on the rowan tree:
And the elder:
It is a veritable fruit pie in the making! Just don't add cuckoo pint,... because it'll kill you (through asphyxiation, unusually - it makes the throat lining swell up horribly).
|"Pint" means "penis," btw. Dirty botantists.|
There are still plenty of flowers around though ... The verges in Scotland, I noticed, are bilious with ragwort:
|Poisonous, particularly to horses|
And bindweed tries to look lovely and tropical in order to distract you from the fact it's smothered every damn thing in your garden:
And in the uplands and heaths, this is the time of year the heather is in bloom:
August makes me hungry. Luckily, as all will agree, fruit you pick while walking contains no calories :-)