darling buds of May, And Summer’s lease hath all too short a date.’ So wrote Shakespeare in , and now, in August, that lease is shorter still. Heigh ho… As gardeners, we are more aware of time slipping through our fingers than most, simply because we see the seasons gliding ever onwards: from chilly, wet winter to capricious spring, to volatile summer to the dustpan-and-brush time of autumn when we get a chance to clear up and look forward to starting again
