I return from our trip my head filled with flowers. At night, in the darkness of our tent, against the darkness of the underside of my closed eyelids, movie-style, fields of shadow daisy-flowers bloom. Has the brightness of their daytime presence – fields of orange, yellow and blue – burnt after-images on my retinas, I wonder? My inner projector continues the spectacle well after the flowers on the ground, starved of the rays of the sun, have closed up their petals for the night.

This entry was posted in the natural world, Travel. Bookmark the permalink.

Comments are closed.