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Underneath the past year, the ground forces of a small garden in mid-west Stourbridge had been working to prepare the airspace to capture the October red. Above a landscape of blue silver and deepest, glossy browns, and with its lean and military silence, Time halts in midway descent. Gently suspended in the trappings of a beautiful scene, this month’s purpose had begun with a little lazy stupor; through the finest burgundy and vintage claret, across the world wide spider webs, leaves are literally hung over.
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From mid to north west and into a Manchester public space. “It always rains in Manchester…”, Here, the waters may keep the gardens fresh, but the northern cool will also prolong both the start and finish of the seasons. But today had become sunny, a rare non-rainfall day.
At All Saints Gardens, a floral brolly umbrellas romantic memories of summer bygones on the cusp of youthful red to a mellower and reflective yellow. Alongside it, a young Autumn surfaces, a new generation of Deep Purple, whose genetic tendancy moves from green to red and red to green as if by magic. Its all in the water. Dry day rainbows in the City of Rain. A dynamic future awaits at the end of them.