A Swartland garden in August
When I pruned the roses, there were four flowers I left, to be cut down when the flowers faded. One was this Great North. Now I watch and wait, as the new season’s buds plump up and the fresh red leaves unfurl.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizO8FRJ6KT9hDsHZAsGTUTs7mKe7wlgl3TlSkA5FFqaVkWg_fjO9t0pNFuD0yKQeM2gCgl3qm4mS23OFa9rRYnOappVLo1goLD3IIkOrpxyTP6DaLy0VjSmL8pl9RpoVNuEK5VrGxSEecn/s400/12+Great+North.jpg) |
Great North |