Day after day, despite predictions of showers, and even the esoteric ‘showers clearing’, no rain.  I no longer even think about whether I can hang out washing or not – I just do it regardless of any forecast.  Even the birds are listless, and the dog lies motionless after his morning walk.  Only the bees among the daisies.

drifting clouds
bereft of rain


runner beans
I can’t keep up with
flashing scarlet against the fence
climbing through the feijoas
and the silver beet
has gone mad

calendula just opening
orange faces to the sun
and that beautiful blue
that’s borage
with its tap root
deep in the good earth

while that big thistle
growing above
the hydrangeas
is really an artichoke
just waiting
for a flower

silver beet
and courgettes
are sparring in the raised bed
and next door
lettuce and tomatoes
jostle for supremacy
rich pickings