In an attempt to clear our stuffed-up heads we took off for a little walk after lunch. Nothing too strenuous. Just enough to raise the spirit but not to break the body.
First we nipped along the boundary of the rugby/cricket pitch where these wood sorrels nestled in a wide margin of unmown grass. I am hoping that this strip had been intentionally left to the wildflowers, not just a stay of execution. Perhaps the mowers were having a tea break, or had run out of petrol, or had nipped down the road for a pasty.
Then down, past the community orchard to the beach and a blissful paddle in the sea.
Then up, up, up,
past the thorns in full bloom,
with occasional glimpses to the hills,
skirting Hillsborough’s buttercups and campions,
emerging with a bird’s eye view of the town below.
That will do.