I took these photos of a grave in the churchyard of St Mary's in Linslade, Bedfordshire, in November 2025, the second time I sat Jilly in her new home in Leighton Buzzard.
I set out for a photo walk from Jilly's house along the Grand Union Canal to the church and the Old Linslade Cemetery after a morning of rain.
Photographing the neighbouring locations around 15:00 in autumn was perfect timing, capturing the church in the golden hour before the early sunset.
The light as I walked back along the canal to The Globe Inn was lovely, though there were only sheep, no cows, for me to remark upon the lovely light upon them.
It was almost pitch black by the time I finished my post-walk pint and headed back to give Jilly her dinner.
Phil and I followed in my footsteps during a photo walk in early May this year.
The weather was perfect for our walk, especially as we were taking photos on 120 film using two pinhole cameras Phil owns. We took our time wandering along the canal, discussing life, the perils of AI and all manner of other topics.
I also had my D700, though I had neglected to charge my spare battery the night before and the charge remaining in the battery in my camera was very low, so I was sure it would run out of juice before we finished our walk (it didn't!)
When we arrived at the churchyard, I remarked upon how much difference the light made. It had seemed almost magical the first time I had visited, and I had taken over 70 photos in November.
In May, in "glorious" sunlight, I captured only 12 photos.
I've revisited places before and taken as many or more photos as the first time. But the light just wasn't right. It was too harsh and bright, and the magic just wasn't there.
I captured a few photos for my season's grievings series and a handful of other photos of the church and churchyard, but something was lacking, which I admitted to Phil at the time.
When I share the one photo I took of this grave on my second visit next Sunday, you'll see what I mean.
In the meantime, I was going to call this post 'cherubim: a death (k)nell'. However, in checking my usage of the word, I learned that the chubby, angelic children with wings many of us know from Renaissance paintings as 'cherubs' are not what was described in the original biblical references.
So, instead, I've chosen the plural of the Italian word, putto, used for the figures depicted in so many artworks we can think of.
Once again, my photography (and mild obsession with semantics) has increased my knowledge.