Star-bursts in the hedgerows

A Cow Parsley seed head that's done its stuff. When I was a kid we used to call the white flowers that emerge in the spring "mother die" and you were sure never to pick any for your mum.

We took a trip out to Watts Gallery and the Watts Mortuary Chapel but the gallery was closed so we walked a small portion of the North Downs Way, the old Canterbury pilgrims route that inspired Geoffrey Chaucer when he wrote his Canterbury Tales.

The path is sunken down, exposing tree roots on either side, typical of old Surrey paths. We came across some bee hives where the honey comb was exposed and duly photographed. But there can be only one blip and I liked these spindly seed head remains that seem to be reaching skywards like claws.

The pattern is not so different from that of the star-burst fireworks that will be lighting our skies tonight, but nature demonstrates restraint and a sense of scale that has been abandoned by people.

A quiet night in tonight with a bottle of wine and a nice supper. No fireworks here and that suits us just fine.