As I write this, Autumn with all its whims and vagaries, is bowing out and leaving the stage to winter.
I'm hoping that the mild days (like the one when I took this photo) haven't completely fled the scene.
This little cornflower is a late arrival in our garden. I didn't get the seeds planted until the end of summer, so as a result the flowers are small. But hardy, I trust. I'm going to have to check on its condition after today's onslaught of hail. Cornflowers aren't designed to flourish in wintry conditions. They are happier growing among a field of wheat. I remember seeing clouds of them (along with red poppies) in the wheatfields of Germany when we were there two summers ago.
Speaking of red poppies ... this is a display of knitted and crocheted poppies in Toitu Otago Settlers Museum. Each poppy represents a life of a soldier lost in the First World War. Otago and Southland lost a heck of a lot of young men at Gallipoli , Turkey one hundred years ago. Among them, my great-uncle Joe Butler. They are not forgotten.
Part of the Toitu museum was once a draughty bus depot where often on Friday nights, I'd catch the bus to Gore. What a cold place it was to wait for a bus. I remember these heavy doors well. You'd push them open to enter a space with a beautiful mosaic floor. Ahead of you were the small ticket booths.
There has been a lot of change in my life lately. I have been pushing through some heavy doors and gateways in order to enter this new phase. It is still my life, but not as I knew it. Change is good. At least that is what I am telling myself.