Ghostly hues of whites and greys linger over the meadow which once bloomed in bold pink. How things change. Instead of neat little flowers hang fluffy fronds of seeds, wispy little wonders. The lightest breeze sets free tiny clumps at a time, sending them up into the sky; swirling and drifting in blatant disregard for gravity.
Something beautiful about the meadow in this moment. Sophie
In yesterday's post I shared pictures of the oil seed rape fields and talked about how the scent brings back childhood memories. In a...
Sometimes I am sent items to feature as part of a post and these will be clearly mentioned as part of each post.Everything else is bought by myself. Any sponsored or collaboration posts will be clearly marked. Each post is my own content and all opinions are honest.