This little flower has given me such pleasure. I picked it up from the pavement where it had been dropped, I am pretty sure, by a man who had just walked past with a huge bunch of flowers carefully tied up in paper and ribbons.
When I got home it put it in this little earthenware pot (which I also found abandoned on the street, some months ago) and it has been sitting on the kitchen table for more than a week.
You can just see, on the top petal at the back, a couple of lines of transparency in the colour where it was bruised. These are just as beautiful, I find, as the fine brush-strokes of pigment on the rest of the flower.