A rose by any other name

I do hope it is. A rose that is. A dog rose if I'm not mistaken. Rosa Canina if I'm getting cocky!

It's Friday and the sparkle faded fast at 3pm. Soon I will no longer go home this way, so it encouraged me to stop the car get out and make my way to the loch side. These's a view I wanted to photograph, a view that only reveals itself when the loch is so low, as it is right now. It's awkward to get to, and requires a wander along the exposed rocky beach.

So quite how the cyclist got their I don't know! But there he was, having a rest and a cuppa. It did explain the very strange animal and shoe prints that I'd seen in the mud. Was it the Argyll black panther? No, just a man with cycle shoes and a set of tire treads.

I did what any man does who finds his spot taken, pretended I wasn't really wanting to go there anyway. I explored elsewhere. And found one more flower I should be able to recognise now. Presuming I got it right, of course!

When I pointed out that I was uncertain about recognition, in a previous blip, my colleague explained that the pupils could tell me! So, I'm left with the uncertainty of knowing if I should be proud that the pupils know, or embarrassed that I hadn't remembered!

Still, I'm a rose my any other name. Honest!


(I must be tired, this is a truly clunky bit of writing! The flow has faded as well. Apologies. Normal scribbling will no doubt be resumed after a decent black coffee and bacon roll tomorrow!)