We went for a walk up Bredon Hill this morning, a warm, scented day with little wind, and then spent the afternoon pottering in the garden - oh, but there's nothing to beat a little pottering!
So I thought it appropriate to post a picture I took in France of some poppies.
Gorgeous colour, poppies, but just a tiny bit clichéd in the old photographic world.
But who cares. I might post another one next week, another bold swagger of ruddy extravagance.
3 comments:
One can never see too much beauty.
I couldn't agree more. A truly evocative flower.
My grandmother used them as book marks, dried and pressed, in her family bible. Crimson had changed to purple, their petals were fragile, transparent and wonderful to my child eyes.
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