Barley means beer!
Father's Day dawned dismal and damp, colours muted, the breeze keeping the butterflies in their houses. We were diverted by dogs and trips to poo bins. But the poetry of the barley ripening with poppies entwined lifted my spirits. It's not all bad.
The birds are singing, the barley ripening, the potatoes flower.
Enjoy your lives.
Comments
Sign in or get an account to comment.