Ragwort

 I know I'm antisocial. I don't much like going into the park at the weekend,

it's full of people. I skidded on a bag of dog poo as I went through the gate into the 

Millennium Wood in Bushy Park. 

That annoyed me.

I crept about amongst the saplings avoiding people's glances as I tried to photograph some blossom. It thrashed about in the gusts of wind, but I pretended I knew what I was doing, 

which I didn't.

I came across the dried sticks of ragwort, the same ragwort that I'd photographed last July. 

What an extraordinary comparison - eight months ago it was hosting a mass of orange and black cinnabar moth caterpillars, now the plant was just dried brown sticks. 

The seasonal changes are so dramatic and swift, yet we don't stop to appreciate how 

impressive they are.