The trumpets of Jericho

I don't know what these flowers are really called, but our late neighbour Fernand always called them les trompettes de Jericho, and the name stuck in my mind. This is a bit of an emergency blip as I spent all day travelling again, leaving rainy England in the morning and getting back to sunny-and-windy Languedoc in the evening by means of a complex combination of planes, trains and automobiles.

Normal service will be resumed tomorrow, I hope -- that is, I will try very hard to blip something other than flowers, and I'll start to catch up with comments too.