Kiss of a Rose

OK, not a brilliant snap, but that's not what it's all about, all of the time.

Cycling to work I noticed lots of discarded Christmas trees on the pavements. I always think it's a shame; something that was considered so important a mere few weeks ago is now cast out of the house, something that was so important to all the family is just not important any more. What to do? Buy one with a root ball and afterwards just go to the woods, any old woods and plant it. If it's not wanted, the caretakers of the woods will see that it becomes compost. Perhaps. Perhaps not.

Anyway, I digress (as usual), amongst all the dross, spotted this Christmas Rose (Hellebore) in front of a house with absolutely no front garden. Just goes to prove that even with (what appears to be) nothing, something can be made of it.

Incidentally, my route every morning takes me past the home where van Gogh once lodged. I think about the the great painter a lot, he must have walked here, I wonder what he saw, what he experienced?
And every morning, if nothing else, I remind myself that I cycled in van Gogh's footsteps. I like that.

Oh, and after work I had not just one, but two New Year's drinks parties to attend at work. Proost!