A versatile flower, the rose is used for decoration, food, flavour, giving to people to indicate affection etc. Those thorns are damn prickly though. The one that has taken over one corner of our garden is an irritant rather than a decoration. This isn’t it, however; this one is to be found in Hebden Bridge town centre.
It’s approaching chucking out time on Monday night in the White Swan but Hugo doesn’t want to go anywhere. He’s quite comfy, thank you.
Perhaps, like this wasp, we are all trapped, aware of the world beyond the glass but frustratingly unable to reach it. But perhaps, again like this particular insect, there is a way out (undepicted here) at the bottom that we just haven’t found yet, we just need to change direction.
Do I spend too much time in bars and cafés? Maybe it’s whatever Mediterranean genes I have in me. I was working, honest. This is a photowhack — the only picture I took today.
Although I quite like the image of this guy’s golden sunglasses, the significance is more carried by what is visible behind his head; that table sits, as did we, in the beer garden of the White Swan in Hebden Bridge. Yes folks, the pubs are open again — if you want to wrap up and go al fresco, anyway. Hurrah for that at least.
Being 42 