Overnight, it seems that fall has moved in. A clammy, chillier air,  and the back lawn is scattered with leaves. The mums don’t look so out of place now, and for some reason the climbing rose has produced a bumper crop of rose hips.

What a strange and lovely name, rose hips. I look up the etymology, learn it is a 16th-century alteration of the Middle English “hepe” and the Old English “heope,” meaning seed pod.

Rose hips are invested with all sorts of nutritional properties, have far more Vitamin C than oranges, for instance.

If I had worlds of time, I’d collect the rose fruits and make tea or jelly. The garden has produced nothing else much that’s edible, apart for oregano, mint and thyme.

Instead, I’ll snap a photo and write a post. It’s another way to preserve the goodness of the rose.