winter visit

 

in reach

 

 

in reach

 

we hold close

 

while time 

 

passes

 

a knock on the door

 

 

 

  

A month or two ago there was a knock at our door. A charming grey-haired lady called Susan introduced herself and asked if she could take some photos outside our home. She told us she had been born here.

 

We invited her and her friend inside and over a cup of coffee she told us the sad story of how she came to leave. Her father died tragically early, aged just thirty five. He's buried in the churchyard just down the road from us.

 

Her mother was so grief-stricken she took Susan, her younger sister and her baby brother to the States to stay with family there. Six months later they returned, but her mother was so heart-broken she couldn't bear to live in the house again. She sold it, contents and all.

We showed her round the house and told her to take as many photos as she wanted. About an hour later she left.

What a lovely lady! It was such a pleasure to meet her, even if the circumstances of her visit were sad. And then, to our delight we received in a message from Susan some lovely black and white photos of happier times. I'm showing these below with her kind permission and in honour of her family.

 

 

red is the colour

 

colours

speak a language

deeper than words

 

red tells torrid stories

 

blood

passion

death

temptation

 

 

 

 

 

 

reflections

 

 

alone

 

a dark passage

takes me

to the light

 

reflections

of a city

 

the slow dance of falling leaves

 

Autumn is such a fantastic season. The youthful,strident colours of summer fade and turn,revealing a richer, deeper beauty beneath. A slow dance of falling leaves that remind us of our own mortality.

We walk in silence, taking in the scents and sights all around us. It's quiet here. A cool, grey Autumn morning.