Ah-ha! It's Chelsea Flower Show yet again. The sun is blazing for the past one week I've been seeing the preparation for the event. Unfortunately for this year, I'm not able to attend the show's opening day. Crossing Battersea Bridge always brings back sweet nostalgia. Memories of Battersea Park; the walk, the talk, the lazy Sundays, the feelings, the laugh, the tears, the silence and the soothing caress. Brunette, for that I thank you. I've always associated Chelsea Flower Show a point from where I start my new year. Such is the blossoming of the flower; it is also a start of a new life. My fondness for Chelsea and its surrounding area is prevalent in my weekly walks exploring its streets. Townhouses, flats and semi-detached houses are embraced with lush greenery reminds me of my childhood. A childhood that have so many hopes. I've lost some parts of me since then but recently manage to regain back some my route and momentum. Even though it's a small step, I'm rejuvenated by the progress. For that I thank you again, my Brunette. Ps: At least this flower doesn't die and no watering is needed. Enjoy.
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