Every so often one does something really stupid; something that could have had proper repercussions. I'm not talking illegal, or anything like that, just something that could cause a lot of upset to several people.
Well, I did one of those things, and I'm not going into details. I was lucky; it turned out all right - I didn't actually do the daft and ill-considered thing that I thought I had done. But I spent several hours reflecting on the situation, and resolving to pay more attention to the consequences of my actions in future.
When I had finished "having a word with myself", I walked past this as I went in to work:
the photograph doesn't do it justice. One lone, late, buddleia flower, perfect, beautiful. How can something so ordinary, so everyday, speak of comfort and solace and, dare I say, forgiveness?