The last two days have been dry enough to prune the roses at last. We’ve had the wettest July on record with a third of our annual rain falling in the one month. Now it’s August and almost past pruning time.

The rose hips were worth saving, as were a couple of dear little buds which have survived the rain and the frosts but are unlikely to open.

Violets are flowering prolifically, scenting the garden now the wintersweet is fading.

The tiny egg was in the nesting box this morning. A sweet little fairy egg.