Under our window the pilgrim rose has doubled through winter, cloud of green with green buds that break through humidity into white-yellow by Cup Day. It’s the first day of November. New shoots of serrated edge softness cover Japanese maples, their green trunks well able for any conditions. Some leaves are edged red. But above us the jacaranda has totally lost it, its curvatures and wiggles outlines where feathery green shaded the window. It’s the same old story morning glory. By December every branch will be blue-purple, more haze adding to the mauve haze lining hilly streets of sleepy Rosanna.