In Sharpe’s Lot the leaves on this tree seemed, even from a distance, to be oddly regular.
But looking closer…
…the leaves were gone, but the apples were clinging on. It was almost as if the tree was decorated for Christmas early with it’s own shiny spherical baubles. Of course by Christmas I suspect that the remaining apples will have followed their peers to the sward below:
Where thy seem to have been gratefully received.
In the hedgerow across the field Old Man’s Beard, or Traveller’s Joy or (according to W.H. Hudson) Angel’s Hair:
Almost a surfeit of evocative names for our native clematis, but it is wonderful stuff.
Close by the hedge was adorned by holly berries.
(For some reason in bright sunshine my camera seems to render scarlet as pink, I don’t know why, or what to do about it.)
There are lots of hollies here in the hedge and the woods behind, but very few berries. I assume that this is because holly is dioecious with different plants bearing the male and female flowers, presumably only the female flowers produce fruit.
As hollies grow taller from shrubs into trees the leaves above grazing height are not prickly.
Like the crab apple this rowan had lost all of its leaves but still held a few berries. (As usual the blackbirds have eaten all the berries from the rowan trees in our garden)