Sometimes, all you seem to be able to focus on are the thistles:
Category: UK
perfumed memories
The scent of linden flowers after rain – from the tree the English call lime – has brought memories of the garden in Spain.
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brightside down
Yesterday was one of those typical days of English summer: blue skies and sunshine, sparkling drizzle, brief torrential rain and blustery gusts of wind. I dressed appropriately – sleeveless blouse and sunglasses, but also a scarf – and carried an umbrella – not just a little fold-up one tucked in my handbag, but a full size golfing umbrella, which was needed before I’d got to the end of the street.
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summer
It’s that time of year: we’ve had the solstice and we’ve had Midsummer; at Glastonbury the festival continues until Sunday; there are concerts of music and “performance” in the nearby city and, in the town, four generations of women have silk flowers threaded through their hair…
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a rose for summer
Apparently the summer solstice and the full moon coincide tonight, so here’s a white rose – a rose for summer and white for the moon.
White roses always make me think of this line in Laurie Lee’s Home From Abroad:
The hedges choke with roses fat as cream.
don't confuse the narrator 