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Dreadful Nonsense

"I've read your blog. it's really funny. you should write a column." - Jon Ronson


When we were kids, Mum used to take millions of photos of plants around Galway, and when the photos came back from the printers, the ones of photos would be thrown aside by me with a muttered "...boring...". I have now started replicating my mother's behaviour. I'm not sure if I should be worried.

One of the thousands of tattoo ideas I have had involved getting a couple of fuscias tattooed onto my wrist. This started because a certain shade of tattoo ink is named "fuscia" and sort of spiraled from there. This is basically exactly the kind of image I had in mind:

This picture disappointingly goes nowhere close to capturing the different shades of purple and orange the countryside had turned with the onset of autumn. This is part of the walk back up from the beach, and I had to keep stopping to look around just to try and keep the image fresh in my mind for when I was back in London. This has worked, but unfortunately when I'm standing on a tube platform and bring this image to mind, it only works to depress:

Some honeysuckle, another flower I'm tempted to get tattooed somewhere:

Pretty. I took this on the way back from our 7-mile hike around the peninsula. I believe my thoughts at this very moment were something akin to a constant cheering.

This is taken on our last day, when the wind got back up and we went down to the beach with half a mind to swim despite the cold, but couldn't work up the courage. I love these daisies that grow right beside the sea, they're incredibly hardy plants who seem to be able to survive the salt winds better than anything else, and still remain looking so delicate and beautiful.


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