I went for a walk in the park the other morning before breakfast. It was early enough that the only other people out and about were dog-walkers and joggers.
The light wasn’t very special and the grass was decidedly damp. We have had some lovely weather recently, but also some tremendous storms, so I’m not sure the plants actually know what season it is, but there were still plenty of flowers and blossoms worth taking pictures of.
I really have no idea what the bell-shaped blossoms above are, but they set me pondering the vagaries of the English language, where the verb “hang” has so many meanings and forms, and where something that over hangs has nothing to do with being hung over, and of the weather, where the grass in the morning can be wet from dew rising or from rain falling.
Still pondering, my eye was caught by a vast field of daisies – or, perhaps, by field of vast daisies, as they were moon daisies, not the little lawn daisies.
In the centre of one of them, I saw this little fellow and my first thought was that he was a perfect model for his species – a busy bee determined to get a head start on the day. But on looking closer, I realised he wasn’t moving and had presumably spent the night out in the open.
An even closer look confirmed my suspicions as he was as damp around the edges as the yellow bed he had slept on.
It occurred to me that if you are be caught at the end of the day a long way from home and too tired to keep going, the sensible thing to do may well be to make sure you find somewhere to sleep that will serve – or serve as – breakfast in the morning.
don't confuse the narrator 