[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 27 July 2026].
putti: a different light
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 21 July 2026].
As promised in my previous post, though later than I'd planned (it's no longer Sunday, not by a long chalk in any hemisphere), this was the light on the same grave when I revisited the churchyard of St Mary's in Linslade, Bedfordshire, in May with my friend Phil.
Had I not previously visited the cemetery and churchyard in such lovely light as I had in November, I probably would have zealously photographed the graves in the churchyard and the adjacent cemetery.
But having seen it during the golden hour after a morning of rain, this light was simultaneously too flat and too harsh.
I'm so pleased my first encounters with these places were in the right lighting.
putti: a death (k)nell
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 14 July 2026].
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.
forever in our hearts at christmas
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 16 December 2025].
uplifting
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 25 November 2025].
mum at christmas
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 15 December 2024].
red bows
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 6 December 2024].
I'm slightly behind schedule but somewhat less stressed.
Only somewhat, but I'm hopeful there will be good news to share more widely in the next few days.
Fingers crossed!
he died of a broken arm
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 1 October 2024].
While reviewing photos to edit and share with you from my wander through the Bishop's Stortford Old Cemetery while sitting Betsy and Dudley a month ago, a new writing project idea struck.
Inspired by a combination of some of the inscriptions in the cemetery, personal memories and a conversation with a friend this evening about death. Specifically, euthanasia.
The words gently edging towards my fingertips aren't all about death, let alone euthanasia.
The ideas gently swirling aren't perhaps as melancholy as what I've written above may suggest (and how can you write about death without writing about life?)
But I'm probably feeling a bit too raw and tired (emotionally and physically) to pour those thoughts out in the wee hours of this particular morning.
So, instead, here's a photo I took of a grave I found paired with an irreverent title to lighten the mood.
Unrelated (maybe): have you heard the new single from The Cure, Alone?
I've listened to it a lot since it came out, but I only just properly listened while watching the lyric video (as I went to find the link for you) and took in the words and the visuals they've chosen, and I teared up for so many reasons.
And then the comments.
quit you like men | i have fought a good fight
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 21 May 2024].
After digging around on Google, I believe the inscriptions on either side of this grave for (I presume) brothers in Hitchin Cemetery are from Bible verses.
From 1 Corinthians 16:13-14 and 2 Timothy 4:7-8 in the King James version specifically.
A Wesleyan Minister and a World War I soldier buried alongside the wife of the Minister. I didn't check the other side, so there may also have been the wife of the soldier commemorated in this plot.
This inscription style appeared a few times in the cemetery, although sometimes with different fonts.
jesus and jules
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 14 May 2024].
coaxing life from death
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 26 February 2024].
untitled #186
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 14 January 2024].
happy birthday, anthony
This year's visit to Australia was predominantly about family and officially saying goodbye to Mum.
But alongside that and reuniting with some wonderful friends, I also had the chance to (officially) say goodbye to one of my oldest friends, Anthony Horan.
My thanks go out to Anthony's brother, Chris, and mutual longtime friends, Amy and Richard, for accompanying me and making the visit possible.
It was lovely to finally meet Chris and reunite with Amy and Richard after so long.
It was a sombre visit. Rain threatened. There was much mud on the 'lawn'.
But there was also cheeky humour amongst us, in keeping with the sort of comments and jokes Anthony would have made if he'd been able to reply to us as we stood by the grave his ashes share with his father's remains.
When I visited, there was a temporary marker for Anthony and his dad. I'm sure when I visit next it will look different (if it doesn't already).
I've been catching up on sharing iPhone photos from my trip on Instagram, and this morning, I reached my photos from that day. I thought I would share them on the second anniversary of his passing in January, oblivious to the date.
But, when I remembered later in the day it was his birthday in Australia, it was obvious today was the day to share.
It's currently his birthday in Melbourne and London.
So, the penguins and I are raising a toast to an old friend.
Love and miss you, Anthony. Always. xx
shot through the heart
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 27 October 2023].
uplifting angels
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 10 July 2023].
crucifixion
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 7 April 2023].
On a rainy day in late September 2021, I was returning from a few days away in West Sussex with my friend and fellow photographer, Phil.
That day, I was scheduled to return to finish my first cat-sitting with the kittehs I'm currently sitting.
Shiloh is nestled in my lap as I type this, despite my semi-regularly lifting her off my lap to go to the fridge or the bathroom during the past few hours of photo editing. When I do that, she gives me a Marge Simpson-like sound of disapproval.
I had an off-peak return ticket to London from Chichester, which meant I could take any train on any permitted route to get back to London within a month of the original booking.
Arundel was on the route back, so we drove there and wandered through the drizzle. Visiting a bookstore. Visiting Arundel Cathedral and the nearby St Nicholas' Church and its churchyard. And having food in a local cafe before Phil dropped me at the station for the next train.
Coincidentally, the train I had planned to be on was cancelled. But I digress.
In the churchyard of St Nicholas' Church, we experienced drizzle, rain, the beautiful after-rain sunlight and the saturated hues post-rain brings to stonemasonry, plant life and... well, everything.
In the churchyard, we also found this elaborate crucifixion scene.
At the time, I presumed it was a monument for someone with a lot of money. Perhaps with a name in the local community.
But, in retrospect, I presume it was installed by the church. Though I can't find anything online to confirm or deny that.
Since I took these photos, I've been keen to share them, but I knew I had to share them as a series, not as individual photographs. And, obviously, Easter is a timely point to share them.
I didn't capture a long shot showing all the participants in this act of mourning together. But, from the individual photographs and the photographs of Christ and the two women, I'm sure you get a sense of the scene.
I presume (with my limited atheist knowledge) the two women closest to Christ are his mother, Mary, and Mary Magdalene. A quick Google search tells me the man is unlikely to have been Christ's father, Joseph.
Earlier today, I tried calibrating the monitor I'm working on, but I'm unsure how successful I've been. Hopefully, successful enough that I don't have to redo the edits on these photographs over the coming days.
Happy Easter to those who celebrate it.
jesus christ pose
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 17 January 2023].
life's a short summer, man a flower
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 1 January 2023].
The final stanza of Samuel Johnson's poem about Winter (with some tweaks), inscribed on a headstone in Arbroath Abbey that I captured in April 2011.
The original quote reads:
Catch the, O! catch the transient hour,
Improve each moment as it flies;
Life's a short Summer - man a flower,
He dies - alas! how soon he dies!
Though the quote on Wikiquote varies from the above and attributes it to a poem with a different name and only cites the final stanza.
I don't have a copy of the original poem to be 100% sure which is correct, but I'm okay with artistic license on headstones.
lichenometry
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 19 December 2022].
I love when my photography leads me to discover new (to me) and very geeky things.
In seeking an appropriate word to use as a title for this image, I read about an intriguing way of measuring time and dating rock.
No, not that kind of dating.
Rather, establishing the age of exposed rock.
coronary
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 2 October 2022].