Autumn creeps into the roof terrace. Home to pots of multiple shapes and sizes. Falling magnolia stellata leaves. The place we’re more likely to chop and change. There are mostly two main seasons here: autumn/winter and spring/summer. Well, sort of. We get two goes with the salvias. A summer trim throws out new flowering. Coming to an end now. A harder cut to come soon. It is likely the same with the lavender. Though this is less set in stone. Some plants die back and the pots are left alone. Others are rotated for spring bulbs. Mostly tall tulips with assorted narcissi (always including my favourite pheasant’s eye). These will join the homes to hellebores, blue muscari and to lily of the valley. This last, Henri’s mother’s favourite scent and loved, too, by Lilian, my foster mum. They are also spreading widely now through the shadier areas at the Danish summerhouse. I have been at home after a recent bike accident ruptured my achilles. Gingerly hopping on crutches on to the terrace as my outside world shrinks. Occasional online ordering now rather than seasonal visits to Camden Garden Centre for impulse buys and inspiration. A need for flower bulbs promising scent and spring colour. Some better news is my sense of smell has mostly returned after training so I can again appreciate our Poet’s Wife rose, maybe breathe in the scented geraniums. Or just sit with a pot of tea and an old paperback PG Wodehouse. The geranium pots will be trimmed back. This year a shocking spring pink and a deep dark red. The windowboxes have taken on new life so for now we will wait and see. Our autumn is about quiet appreciation, patience and planning. Now how about yours?