Golden grass

The combination of modern transport and Blipfoto makes me feel slightly unreal: yesterday I was blipping Mr PB in the winding streets of a mediaeval Italian town; today I am posting a pic of some delicate, bleached grass by the roadside in Cowal. We flew, we spent over 5 hours in Gatwick Airport, eating in Jamie's Italian, we flew to Glasgow on the last flight of the day; we spent the night in an airport hotel; we came home today. And after I'd hung out as much washing as my whirly can accommodate, we went for a walk, and were overcome with the beauty of our own country under the late sun of a perfect afternoon.

Actually, what struck me first was the green of the fields compared to the bleached stubble of Puglia, but then I saw this golden grass under the trees of Castle Toward grounds and loved its pattern against the solid black shadow of the woodland. So here, to celebrate being home, is an almost completely un-green photo.

And I still have a great deal of washing to do ...