Purple and white

I left Glasgow in the sunshine this morning, the wind having dropped it actually felt nice and warm.  By the time I’d arrived home, on a packed train it was raining and cool.  The white daffs that I planted our first autumn have filled out nicely against the purple berberis but I fear the bush itself has got quite wounded from last year’s drought. I did frequently chuck some grey water on it but I suspect too little, too late.   The far side facing the field is coming through so it might need some judicious pruning.  

My ear is still ringing but I am not attempting to fly until I go to Madrid in a week’s time so hopefully it will be better by then.