After Hector

Who knew it was going to turn out to be Hector that would destroy my azelea? Presumably the storm that rocked our house - and our trees - last night was suddenly found to be sufficiently intense to merit a name, and as I feared sufficiently intense to ruin all these blooms that I photographed yesterday.

This is my garden this morning, with the bridal dresses of the azalea strewn on the grass. The sun is shining, though it will shortly be raining again, and the effects of the gale are all too obvious. Apart from the blossom on the ground from various plants, I'm left with the conundrum of the rosa rugosa bushes that grew like crazy while we were away - I'd pruned them early - and now look destroyed, with their new growth too tender to resist the disturbance. Perhaps they'll recover a bit - or perhaps I'll just need to give them a haircut and see if they can grow a few flowers before the summer is over.

Enough of these horticultural maunderings. I've had a busy but unphotogenic day, ending in a meeting that has left me drained and exasperated. And we still have scaffolding outside, but rain in the forecast. No builders tomorrow, I fear. To bed, to bed, to bed ...