I first wrote a blog about bluebells in 2019 and then again in 2020 so to complete a hat-trick here are a few photographs of the display this year. These were all taken in the woods very close to home so a walk along the path through the dale becomes is a real joy and pleasure when this magic carpet of native bluebells appears.
“Take nothing but photographs, leave nothing but footprints”
Memorial benches at our local peace park.
At the nearby National Memorial Arboretum this Polish Armed Forces Memorial may also be used as a bench. It pays tribute to the Polish Forces personnel who gave their lives in the 2nd World War 1939-1945. Breaking the Enigma Code – A plaque on the memorial describes how Polish mathematicians broke the enigma code used by the Germans.
Psalm 19
1 The heavens declare the glory of God;
the skies proclaim the work of his hands.
2 Day after day they pour forth speech;
night after night they reveal knowledge.
3 They have no speech, they use no words;
no sound is heard from them.
4 Yet their voice goes out into all the earth,
their words to the ends of the world.
In the heavens God has pitched a tent for the sun.
5 It is like a bridegroom coming out of his chamber,
like a champion rejoicing to run his course.
6 It rises at one end of the heavens
and makes its circuit to the other;
nothing is deprived of its warmth.
Surely all photographers and artists like trees? Whatever the season they have so much to offer, from the young leaves and vibrant colours of spring, the fullness of form and structure in the summer, the browns, yellows and golds of autumn or the complex yet graceful skeletal branches in winter.
These photographs were taken a few years ago when a particularly strong hoar frost added yet another aspect to the trees.
“Trees have personalities. They’re individuals. Tall or bushy, thick or thin, well-established or struggling, they’re like people, each with its own character. Sometimes as I walk around, I look at people and try to work out what sort of tree they are. Just for fun of course.”
Eddie Askew, Love is a Wild Bird.
John's Postcards 