As I understand it (confirmed from doing some reading on the Wildflowers-and-weeds website) lots of flowers such as thistles and dandelions are not really single flowers, but composite flower heads made up of many tiny individual florets.
Category: spain
neighbours and other animals
When we first moved here, the village seemed to be home to a surfeit of satanic and unholy animals. Some belonged to neighbours, some were just wild visitors.
Emilio had a half a dozen goats and his lad used to herd them across the unfenced part of our land to graze in the olive grove: an enduring image is that of a sleek black goat poised, watchful, on a rock or stone wall, or up on two legs under an olive tree. ( I am glad to say that despite the ease with which he assumed this vertical posture, I never heard the horned one speak.)
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soundtrack
above the hum and buzz of insects
the fluttering chatter of songbirds; higher still,
the sour weep and bark of eagles
As I’ve said before (in the old post bluebirds and probably elsewhere) I’m not particularly fond of birds but they tend to crop up a lot in my poetry.
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summery II
Another summery picture to mark the fact that although yesterday was the longest day, today the sun will actually set later.**
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summery
Well, I managed to miss the solstice sunrise, but it does look quite summery outside the window.
There again, my idea of what summer looks like has been changed by years of living in Spain.
Forgetting for a moment about the rain and the cold that is more often the reality, I think of British summer as pale and hazy, delicate and frilled, in pastel shades of strawberries and cream.
It’s honeysuckle, gypsophila and sweet peas; strappy sandals, pretty print frocks and matching cardigans.
In Spain, though, summer is brash and solid and in-your-face.
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don't confuse the narrator 