Perfect iris

I helped Jeff with a couple of the apprentice ringers for a while in the morning before setting of for Perpignan to the crematorium.  A friend had died shortly after his wife.  It was my first attendance at a French crematorium and there were subtle but welcome differences to the English set up.  I liked the fact that the seating was circular.  It felt a more intimate and shared experience.  A screen showed a chronological photo slideshow of his life.  It was a sad occasion of course but it felt right given he had declined very rapidly with Alzheimers. 
I only had to walk out of the courtyard to find this blip of my neighbour's irises, of which he has four varieties.