November, often relentlessly grey and misty here in East Anglia, is the time of year I put together my first dried flower arrangement for the winter mantlepiece. This past summer was warm and sunny enough for the acanthus to send up spiky flower stalks above their architectural leaves, and, along with some beautiful pale blue mophead hydrangeas, I’ve managed to create an understated floral arrangement to suit the coming winter light.
It looks low-key, ripened nature gently fading away, but as the central heating comes on in the evening and the room warms up the seed pods on the acanthus burst with a cracking sound like a fairground rifle and I jump out of my skin. The very first time it happened I even dived for cover. The seeds are forcefully propelled out across the room – none have hit me yet – hence ‘Russian Roulette’ springs to mind. Now, each time it happens it makes me laugh as I crawl round the floor picking up the bits.