Garden tour

On the day my daughter and I explored two Florence gardens, I tripped. I did not knock myself out, nor my teeth, but I scraped both knees a little and bruised both palms.

I fell on gravel. Can you tell? I held lots of pressure on the knees first, and then palms together. Less bruising with pressure because the bleeding stops sooner. I still had these nice gravel prints on the photographs taken the next day. I was looking at the garden and did not see a ridge to divert rain and fell quite hard. I rolled and did not break a wrist, which is nice. After that, my daughter warned me when she thought the ground was rough and I was looking up too much. “No texting while walking, mom.”

The cobblestones could be rough too.

And this garden sculpture is not watching his feet either.

This one might not need to, since he looks like he’ll be airborne.

Happily, I did not fall down any steps nor with my big pack on.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: explore.

3 thoughts on “Garden tour

  1. Falling is not the picnic it’s made out to be.

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