Impressionist?

You can't help but smile at this, or if you can you must be in a very sad place, or just a sad git! You choose.

The city is covered in these swathes of colour, which in turn are covered by eejits like me, with their plastic bags at knee, getting down as low as their backs will allow to capture their beauty. How I didn't get anyone else's behind in the shot is a little miracle in itself.

These particular beauties were shot at the meadows. On Saturday the grass area is covered by young kids playing their school football matches. On Sunday, by contrast, it is covered by much older, generally unfit looking men playing a number of sports. I sat on a bench for a while and watched two 'games' one of rugby union - 5 a side, who knew who was on which team, but they had a referee, who occasionally seemed to help the loosing side, very decent.

The other was grown men, men on the other side of prime perhaps, men who should have looked in the mirror before walking out in their 'sport gear', men with little bands around their middle (I would say waist but that wasn't so obvious), dangling tags of red and green, and playing tag rugby. Clearly full contact would have killed them outright.

Is this any different to me and my yoga or zumba? At least I look in the mirror first. Or is it so different to me wondering why on a rare day when my boy isn't playing footie, and his team don't have a game which, as captain, he needs to support, why then did they both done hats and gloves and go watch another team in their league play?

I suppose these are all things worthy of a smile.