Spring hat

There was a time when despite not being a hat wearer,

I used to have an irresistible urge to buy a hat for spring.

One year it was a yellow felt hat with a bunch of artificial primroses 

pinned above the brim.

I wish I still had it.

I'd have worn it today.

My friend Jonathan (he of the now silent Neither Use Nor Ornament) 

sent this from Kerala.

I rather like the broad brimmed one with the purple gingham ribbon and trim

but I fear I would, as usual, look like a mushroom in it.

Anything there take your fancy?

Spring corners

It has been the most remarkable year for Mimosa.

It must have been that early February warmth because

I have never seen it flower so abundantly.

I usually miss the moment when a few branches can be found at the florist

but this year it was everywhere, smelling of clean water.

This one was in a scrubby little patch next to some public toilets.

Bonnard had it outside his studio window.

This painting at the  Tate Modern exhibition

made a change from all the ones of his wives

stretched out palely in tepid bathwater.

Gorse and its coordinating This Way sign.

Purple leaved plum, now sadly blown about by recent gales.

Wild garlic.

Banner in a patch of rarely penetrating sunlight.

 A bold decision to paint this dresser top.

Previously preserved in all its knotty, stained, 

multi-nailed original condition for twenty years, 

because it somehow seemed necessary to respect its antique status, 

I suddenly saw it for what it was - ugly.

And it wouldn't be Spring (or Autumn) without observing

that the rainbows are back.