A walk in the woods, an old scooter, and a dazzling dome 🙂

Out for a walk and found this abandoned scooter. Probably the nearest I'll ever come to being a biker – don't have the gear though. The rusting remains would make an interesting garden feature with a couple of climbing plants around it. No idea how it got there, or why. Must be easier to dump an old scooter than taking it a mile into wooded countryside. Or was it stolen, dumped and never found? Something poignant about the skeleton of what used to be someone's pride and joy. Sorry about the shiny heid! A friend took the photo and was unable to cope with the challenge of bright light reflected from a shiny dome – or was the intelligent camera not intelligent enough 🙂 ?

…………………..

Fibonacci poems. Just to remind you – a fibonacci poem is one where each line contains the exact number of syllables of the two previous lines. The sequrence is therefore 1,1,2,3,5,8,13,21,34 and if you're feeling creative or silly, 55!

Lament for a Scooter (Fibonacci)

Lost?

Dumped.

Stolen?

Rusted wreck.

Someone's pride and joy.

Scooter or show-off's chariot?

How many miles were on the clock,
each one wind-swept fun?

Flaking metal withers slowly; grass
and whin entwine, clothing with green the naked frame.

Machinery meets botany, rust versus
chlorophyll, inanimate detritus midst living fauna – fly dumping as perverse art
form!