Well it had to happen didn't it? One minute the quince was there, hanging, looking lovely and plump on its branch, the next time I looked (a couple of storms later) it was down on the ground. Not picked in time, not turned into something exciting, but fallen.
Admittedly before it fell it was getting rather blotchy, but it was also giving out the most wonderful scent. Yes I have become a woman who sniffs at quince (not a euphemism).
What is to become of a fallen quince? Well I shall tell you....
.... every cat and owl in the neighbourhood descend with their runcible spoons barely concealed in their waistcoat pockets and devour the quince. I know it sounds a bit unbelieveable, but it turns out that owls and pussycats are hipsters at heart and like a good waistcoat.
This year's quince adventure is over and now the trees have to gird their loins ready for the next growing season. Will I continue to follow the quinces or will I move on to another tree?.....
......the suspense is almost palpable.
More trees are being followed over at Squirrelbasket's blog