Being, as it was, one of the last sets of days of pleasant-weather, my weekend was spent in gardening. Now, there is something beautiful about the feel of earth in one's hands and nurturing things to grow, but other, better poets have ploughed that ground (and I cannot resist certain puns), so writing about it is out. I was going to post a picture of the sort of flowers we planted, but then it became a "look at me!" post. Can't have that.
So I've elected to post examples of two rather dominant gardening styles, the English (represented on the right by Sissinghurst Tower and its attendant gardens), and the French (represented on the left by the Gardens of Versailles). Now, both English and French gardens indulge in the picturesque, so it is impossible to get a really representative shot of a whole French or a whole English garden, particularly when one of your examples is Versailles, which is massive beyond words. Designed gardens like these are meant to be discovered by moving through them.
So let's go to France. Right Now.