Oh, the buttercups! Fields and fields of yellowy buttercups. It’s as though some master cake baker frothed the valley with lemon frosting.
If it weren’t for the barbed wire fences, I’d park my car and swim through the thigh-deep saffron. (Yet, another reason I don’t like barbed wire. Yes, Monsieur Jannin, I’ve torn many pairs of jeans on your “fil de fer barbelé.)
I'm reminded of the song "Yellow" by Coldplay: "I swam across, I jumped across for you, Oh what a thing to do. Cos you were all yellow, I drew a line, I drew a line for you, Oh what a thing to do, And it was all yellow."
I really never understood the lyrics until I saw the fields of buttercups. Yes, a sea of yellow to swim, if I can only jump across the fence.