A certain person - no names beyond saying he’s the lunatic President of our special ally - maintains that global warming is just a figment of the scientists’ imagination. Well, I went round the garden yesterday to see how many flowers were still flowering, albeit looking slightly knackered, before Jack Frost arrives to gobble them all up in a day or two. Here’s proof of how true winter seems to be starting later and later:
Mind you - and here’s where the Donald would say that nothing has changed in 24 years - we had a similar late autumn in 1994. That year, almost to the day, I also went round our garden (we were then living at Bankton Cottage on acid soil rather than the alkaline free draining stuff we have here) and this is what I photographed then:
So who’s right? A buffoon who can hardly read or the world’s most eminent scientists? I’d say no contest: but maybe that’s a bit contentious. Perhaps we should change the subject and talk about brexit.