This is the view of the annual bed that you come upon after you've walked through the side [you say "allée", I say] alley that's planted with hydrangeas, hostas, hellebore and grape hyacinth. (Will I ever permit another plant in that row whose name doesn't start with an "H"? Well, I've made an exception for Crocus speciosus.) This garden isn't so goth anymore. The blue salvia has self-seeded for the second summer in a row, the tall ageratum is finally coming into its own, and this is the first bloom of the annual larkspur, which spent most of the spring and early summer being gnawed knee-high to a grasshopper by the you-know-what hoppers.
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