Hellebore

So, I am kneeling on an old towel on the mudbath that is our lawn, elbows on the ground to form a tripod for the camera and nether regions waving at the sky, when a cheery voice says, "Hello! You look busy!" I remove my face from the camera and turn to see a woman I do not know beaming at me over the garden wall.

I say "Hello", trying and probably failing not to have this sound like, "I suggest you leave before I set the dogs on you." 

"Are you photographing something fascinating?"
"Not really; just a hellebore."
"That is some equipment you have there! I wonder if you could do a workshop for us one day?"

What I say is, "Thank you, but really I'm not that good."

What I'm thinking is, "If what you need (whoever you are) is a workshop on how to find yourself looking like a complete prat in front of a total stranger and having a conversation about it, then I am absolutely the person you're looking for. If you want anything more complex than that, I'm afraid you're on your own."

After all of that I had to blip the hellebore, even though I didn't get a shot I was totally happy with. This is Helleborus orientalis, a bit camera-shy and looking a little the worse for wear (as would you if you were up to your fetlocks in Worcestershire mud), but bringing a promise of spring. 

My favourite shot of the day was of Arthur, on his way to the treat drawer in the kitchen and checking to see that I was following him - I was walking when I took this and the camera was still on hellebore setting so it's not pin-sharp, but he usually avoids being photographed so I was happy to catch him at all.