Citation de missmolko1
It was a glorious day. Summer was edging its way into England. Hawthorn flowers were heavy with scent pink and white along the winding road out of Carsely. On either side of the Fosse Way, obviously a Roman road, for it runs straight as an arrow up steep hills and down the other side, lay fields of oilseed rape, bright yello, Van Gogh yellow, looking too vulgary bright among the gentler colours of the English countryside.
