Quite often, I find that I do not end up doing what I set out to do.  That doesn't mean that I don't achieve my goal, I just do it a different way.  That's my story and I'm sticking to it.  

It's a bit like going to the shops to buy bread and milk. Yes, just bread and milk, that's all I need. But do I come home with only bread and milk? Of course not. I'll pick up cheese and avocadoes (if they are on offer), maybe a mango (ditto).  And then of course we might be out of oatcakes and pasta and rice.  Better pop some in the trolley.  And plenty of other unhealthy options which I won't mention here, for fear of giving the wrong impression (moi?).

Or, if I go for a walk in the woods, I won't intend to take photos, but something will catch my eye. Some bright green moss, yellow lichen on a rock, feathery lichen hanging from a branch.  So I come home with more than I intended. More images to save and look at again and take pleasure from.  I might even pick something up along the way - an interesting twig, some larch cones or a fern frond. A feather. 

So it was when I went to art class over on south Deeside the other week.  I was planning to paint some landscapes; had printed out photos in my bag to use for inspiration.  As I went to load my art kit into the car, I noticed the dead head of a hydrangea (from my neighbour's garden) lying on our drive.  Of course I picked it up.  It was one of those lacewing ones, with a few lifeless petals clinging on at the edges.  It sat on the passenger seat as I drove to my class.  When I got there, I could see the remnants of rosebay willowherb beside the track where I park each week.  I picked some. I couldn't not pick some.  I had always wanted to paint this transitory plant, with its bright pink flowers which turn to bean-like seed pods and then fluffy floatingness.  Today was the day.  I'd missed the flowers, of course - I'll have to wait a while for those to appear again.  What a joy it was to paint these - of course I did a few sketches of the serendipitous Hydrangea head as well.   

I was lucky enough to spend a week in Andalucia in southern Spain recently. Having been there before at this time of year, I knew to expect an abundance of spring flowers.  I wasn't disappointed. There were meadow flowers in abundance and around our house had been planted a wide range of familiar and unfamiliar plants. There is a lack of rain in the area, so regular irrigation is vital, to sustain any kind of vegetation.  Of course we had slightly different views on precipitation while we were on holiday, but we could appreciate the work that is involved in sustaining a garden, or olive or orange grove.  Let alone a whole avocado plantation.  The flowers were vibrantly coloured, from the bright pink Bougainvillea to violet-blue daisies.  Roses were also blooming.  In April.  The light and colour certainly lifted my spirits.