The inspection.
The snow drops, vanished; now for brazen daffodils with their big elbows.
As I walk out of the front gate, a woman passes, bending over to shield a small child with her umbrella. But it isn't raining. Then I realize that it is. But the rain is just a fine spray. I don't need an umbrella. I wallow in it like a blackbird.
2 comments:
"...brazen daffodils with their big elbows."
Beautiful. Perfect.
Although Herefordshire has a reasonably comprehensive supply of public daffodils, Wales ensures that wherever a road crosses over into the principality the traveller is welcomed by daffs in bulk.
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