Follow the Yellow Brick Road . . .

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On Monday afternoon of this week I wasn't working and went out to run a couple of errands, like getting my hair cut, washing the car, filling up the gas tank. When all that was done, I realized it was still daylight and oddly enough for some reason my camera had snuck out of the house with me, so I thought then that I'd just take a short little look up a road not far from here that I'd been meaning to go look at more closely for a few days . . . Well, it is dangerous for me to be let out of the house with the camera in tow, Monday was no exception; I spent the next two hours or so until darkness forced me home out poking around, doing what I love best. Off a main road I turned up a tiny side road which cut right up into some brilliant yellow fields of rapeseed. Why it's called that I couldn't say, for the yellow of these plants is about as far from violent as you can get. . . pure botanical joy if you ask me. This was almost as good as heading up the fabled yellow brick road in the land of Oz . . .
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Like Dorothy in her poppy field, I soon found myself up to my waist in the middle of intense yellow, surrounded by yellow, drunk on yellow !
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A mysterious structure loomed deep in the field . . .
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Couldn't help wondering how many hundreds of years it's been there . . . and whether perhaps inside there is a stairway going down, down, deep into the earth . . .

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The edges of the fields of rapeseed along the road were lined with a thick band of stinging nettles. Believe me you don't want to walk through these with shorts on. They do make excellent soup though, if you can manage to cut them without getting burned by their toxin . . . Once boiled they're safe to eat and marvellously nutritious. . .
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But it was the rapeseed I was worshipping, even lying on the ground looking up . . .

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A yellow feast for the senses . . .

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Finally, at another edge of the field, there was a carpet of violet under the trees . . . What more could one wish for on a stolen afternoon out ?

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