1/3/2021

A very quick snap taken on a very chilly walk round the allotment. I always think March has a particular quality of breezy coldness that you don't even get in the depths of winter, but probably it's just more to do with being lured into a false sense of security by the emergence of flowers and stupidly not wearing gloves that makes it feel so nithering. You'd have thought I would have learned by now, I've lived through enough Marches, but nope. 

This was in a pile of junk at the front of someone's plot and difficult to tell if it was a deliberate placement of the pot containing the daffodil into the yellow bin or just a happy accident, but it pleased me.