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I CLEAR OUT the remains of the tomato plants from the greenhouse. They are long since shrivelled to brittle brown vines, powdered with mildew.
Only a few small nettles and spurges are still green, as are the fronds of Broad Buckler Fern, which grows in the shady corners and under the staging.
The only creatures that I disturb on this cool, wet day are a single woodlouse and a curled-up caterpillar, which is as bright a green as the powdery algae which is sprinkled over the soil.