The two Jack Russell's were out and about in the back garden causing mayhem just as it was getting dark and as I went out to round them up I noticed the Boss' fig tree looking decidedly spooky and creepy. So I tried to take a quick picture before the last of the light went completely
I think it's the effect of the twilight that is giving the plant that unworldly look in fact in my fevered imagination it could well be advancing towards me and I can quite easily imagine those rock hard and unripe figs smacking me around the head. I reckon that my imagination control needs turning down to three or four from 10 and I'm sure that M.R. James and Sheridan Le Fanu never wrote stories about figs and fig trees.
What a pity we were denied a really warm 'Indian summer' in September because that would have ripened the vast majority of those that have been left on the tree.
Better luck next year.