It's time for apples, plums and pumpkins. There's crumble for pudding (and leftovers for breakfast). Blue tits hang off the sunflowers, eating the seeds. We pick the dead flower heads, threading the stems through the wire fence, a final feast for the birds.

Black birds hop between blackcurrant bushes, stealing fruit we haven't been quick enough to pick; lettuces - almost alarmingly - seem to double in size overnight; runner beans race up poles.