collage, lads, bees

Nature, or at least a combination of wind and rain and a perhaps a man tearing off something fixed to it made this collage on a metal door with an absence of thought or planning.

On the terrace at Sankey's four lads with pints in front of them demolish baguettes and stack of chips with infectious enthusiasm, while Mrs P and share a plate of whitebait with the modest restraint of the elderly.

Bees are scarce this year. I watch them rather as individuals, entering a nasturtium and backing out, moving over the spikelets of lavender which swing  when they have concluded their ministrations and moved on to others.