Apologies Mr Wordsworth

I wandered lonely through this maze
That twists and turns like favourite tales,
When all at once I spied blue haze,
A host, of swaying, fragrant bells;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Well, if this was a painting they would call it naive, on the grounds that "Reality is never that perfect"! Remarkable that with a good camera and an eye for natural gems you can pick up these master pieces for free!

By the way if you see H, tell her that my jumbled letters for this comment read "zoiujm" - collecting them is a new hobby of her's I believe. True, she did once complain about having brain mush.
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