I spent last weekend at Snape Maltings enjoying some excellent music at the concert hall – and getting marooned in mid marshes when the motor of the boat from which we were viewing the bird life died unceremoniously. However, to get to the boat we had needed to walk through the village of Orford, once a thriving seaport until the sand spit moved and cut it off from the open sea. Now it is a pleasantly sleepy backwater – with the most amazing collection of front garden roses I have ever seen.
Sadly, we were there on Satruday morning, after the torrential downpours of Friday had done their worst. But the Orford roses were having none of it and, with a few slightly battered exceptions, they were still strutting their stuff. As you can see….