The Foxglove Tree

If yesterday’s rain of intent soaked everything out in it including the Prime Minister’s best suit, the rain of hopeless misery today dampened everybody’s spirits to a new level. It was that fine insistent rain backed up by yet more cloying mist that seems to seep into one’s soul. I sat nursing my coffee in Söderberg as long as I could. There at least I could people watch rather than be at home with a vista of sodden grass and trees.
I walked a wet circuit in the Meadows and saw a tree I hadn’t noticed before with blossom that was falling to the ground. I rescued one bloom to blip. Apparently it is a Foxglove Tree . My extra is a very sodden fungus in the grass nearby.