In Inverness we needed to change travellers' cheques and I took a walk to the bank. On the way I passed a garden with this flower in it:
I absolutely love this photo. When I showed it to my daughter she said "dead flower". I guess technically it is, but I never saw it as such - rather, as a flower whose age and imperfections had added to the beauty of its shapes.
Rather like me, I hope. Ageing and imperfect, but still living and learning!