last week my eyes were drawn to a beam of unusually coloured light in the local golf course as I was hoofing cheerily by along the road—
—and alert to the possibility that the flying sorcerer people may be visiting, or perhaps Big G had finally had enough of us and was lining up to sink the pink I scored the shot myself. And from the road, boom boom!
and deeper into the evening when ploughmen homeward wend their weary ways etc etc, this—
—which was beginning to really intrigue. I ambled on, as ever alert to the possibility that celestial trumpets may blast (or old dogs are going colour-challenged in their dotage) …
… as I almost cleared the native flax bushes I scored the above. Those poddy looking things are pods. For seeds. I think … moving more further along
AND after a couple more k‘s of dedicated hoofing I decided that enough was enough and it was about time to about turn; and there in a field a cattle was making the most of his now waning munching hours; and a truck lay basking in the rays of the setting sun.
Still pink, I noted, and no—I haven’t tweaked these images, much.
After which the fading sun sank below his ordained horizons, but not before I scored this using the Executive Make-’em-bigger attachment—
—but I must admit I’ve edited out the farmhouse and power poles. (Most of ’em, that is …)
It was a fun walk and when I got home The Spouse was watching some Spousian rubbish on TV and hadn’t noticed the quality of the outside illuminations at all (she loves that UK show set in London where everyone is shrieking and yelling and screaming at each other all the time) (it takes all sorts).
Me? I’d watch ‘Peter Rabbit’ 24/7 if I had to* —what the animators have achieved there goes waaaay beyond any story line. (And nary a naughty word in sight nowhere,)
* —if I could ...