Sweet Peas in autumn

The last flourish of the sweet peas in the autumn sun (and added extra - I couldn't decide which I preferred).
Morning mist over the Eden valley and a calm waiting (extra).

The Ship of Death - D.H. Lawrence (first stanza)

Now it is autumn and the falling fruit
and the long journey towards oblivion.

The apples falling like great drops of dew
to bruise themselves an exit from themselves.

And it is time to go, to bid farewell
to one's own self, and find an exit
from the fallen self.