Keats

The season of fruitfulness seems to be upon us, though it's only just July and not autumn as Keats's ode would have it. Maybe it only gets mellow in the autumn. We have a few mange-tout plants and they are producing ever more pods, with many flowers still to turn into pods. They are lovely when they are small. In fact I think I like them much better than runner beans, so next year I'll be sure to grow some more. I might try growing peas too rather than just mange-tout, but I think peas might be trickier to get right.

The courgettes are swelling quickly. The hot, sunny weather suits them , but they need water to keep them happy. The flowers look big and blowsy and I'm told they are edible, but I don't expect they taste as good.

The raspberries are suddenly ripening quickly, again I think the water we gave them a few weeks ago has helped swell the berries. They are very sweet and the birds love them, so the few that our nets don't cover have been pecked at. The birds are welcome to a few, we have lots.