Bog road heather gone rust and still honeyed

Here's a thing. The heather along the bog road has gone from purple to rust and it still smells of honey when the sun gets on it, and the dog won't leave it alone and neither will I.

A bit of dust in it too, like an old hymn book. Grand walk this morning, mind, the rain held off. It's the last chord of the year hanging on before the session packs up.