Primroses, palest blush with dark centre. Delicate petals, each year a few more flowers soften the stone wall.
Celandine stars that herald the coming of spring, gaudy yellow.
Gorse that scents the air to honey coconut texture of warm summer days.
Cowslips standing tall above the grass where skylarks rise into clear blue.
Golden grasses like Rapunzel's hair.
And a field of fading daffodils, grown for bulbs, not flowers, looking beautiful still but ragged and worn in the dry dusty field.
Walking with the dogs I think of how with a single word you can summon a whole story to mind, and if you know that story the whole tale will tell itself in seconds in your mind. And I am thinking of Rapunzel, and all these golden things touched by King Midas when I find, in the grass, the footsteps of a strange diaphanous creature, caught in the grass.