Always Wondering

Lately i have not been able to get enough of FLOWERS:  Wild, tangled, trailing flowers covering all of the verges and peeking through cracks in pavements, broken bricks and wrapped daintily around gate-posts.  My usual two-wheeled route is mass with cow parsley, wild garlic, daisies and dandelions. I wish i could fill jam jar upon jam jar with them and line them up along our big window-sills, for they are much prettier than many of their expensive counterparts.   

 

I often think, when my silly DAYDREAMS let me and there is nothing urgent or important to tend to, what kind of flower i would be.  I can never decide.  I know it would be wild and delightfully tangled and probably a little bit of a mess! What kind of flower would you be?

Our SKIES lately have been heavy with rain.  But it is a rain you can forgive, unless of course you are standing right underneath its icy path.  It's the sort of rain that smells clean, fresh and full of Spring.  Almost like the wind has taken an enormous breath and captured in it all of the sweet Spring smells, and held on tight until the dark clouds come calling and ready to burst.

 

Days off have brought gentle tentative TIP TOEING out after the rain has passed, all floral cotton shirts and inappropriate wear from head to foot:  Willing the big blue sky to burst out.  Deep breaths of damp sodden ground and green shoots rained to the floor and ready to be whisked away on a gentle evening breeze.  

Early evenings spent DAYDREAMING whilst watching a turkish delight hued cotton candy sky and flipping through old and precious scrapbooks.  Cotton smocks in the palest of pretty pinks and peaches worn with oversized rose knits and the softest of skinny jeans.  Tea is always essential.  

Because who can possibly be INSPIRED without a little mug of tea and a few biscuits?