[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 9 December 2025].
a hessian-bound christmas bouquet
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 7 December 2025].
a wreath with all the trimmings
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 6 December 2025].
a mushroom village near pauligin huvila
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 31 October 2025].
I found this mushroom village under a tree by Pauligin huvila (formerly known as Villa Humlevik), a grand house built for master baker Gustav Ulrik Sandberg and his wife Ulrika Charlotta, with construction beginning in 1873.
The building was undergoing further updates when I detoured to take a look at it between visits to Hietaniemen hautausmaa (Hietaniemi Cemetery) and the Sibelius-monumentti (Sibelius Monument) (and to rest my blistered feet).
I have photos to share of all three in future posts. I'll share more information about them then.
For now, here are some fun guys.
bianca frangipani
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 17 August 2025].
Early in the new year, I received a message in my Instagram DMs from a woman in Massachusetts, Monica, who had seen photographs I'd taken at Pinner New Cemetery. I posted several photos I took in December 2023 as part of my annual season's grievings series in the lead-up to Christmas.
Monica's aunt, Bianca, passed away tragically at the age of 31 in 1962 and is buried in Pinner New Cemetery.
Bianca and Monica's mother had kept in touch over the years, but family circumstances had kept them apart. With Bianca in London and Monica's mother in the US, she (and Monica) had never seen the memorial laid on Bianca's grave in the cemetery.
My friend and former flatmate, Floriana, was the reason I visited Pinner New Cemetery in December 2023, as she works in Edgware on Saturdays and was attending a work Christmas lunch at a restaurant in Pinner. Consequently, we'd organised to meet at The Queen's Head before her lunch.
Monica asked me if I would be willing and able to revisit the cemetery to take photographs of the grave for her.
Coincidentally, I already had plans to meet Floriana again the following weekend. We had planned for Floriana to revisit my neck of the woods (our shared flat was in Wood Green, and I live in the adjacent suburb of Hornsey) to meet.
However, I contacted Floriana and suggested we meet in Edgware or Pinner instead, as that would allow me to revisit the cemetery and be more convenient for her. (As it turned out, there weren't many options for pubs near her work, so she drove me home from the cemetery, and we went to my local instead, as we'd originally planned).
When I agreed to look for Bianca's grave, Monica sent me further information, including the plot number, maps of the cemetery and the location of the grave.
Exploring Pinner New Cemetery
Looking at the map Monica had sent me, I was almost 100% certain I hadn't ventured into the section where her aunt had been laid to rest, but I looked through my existing photographs first to confirm my memory.
When I visited Pinner New Cemetery for the first time, I almost immediately came across a section dedicated to infants and children, which was towards the front of the cemetery. The section was simultaneously beautiful and heartbreaking, and I walked the full length of it to a corner of the cemetery, taking photos as I went.
Among other things, the child and infant section offered plenty of opportunities to capture season's grievings images, as so many of the graves were decorated for past Christmases (it was slightly early for decorations for the current year).
I explored other areas of the cemetery during my approximately 45-minute visit. However, as the days were short at that time of year, I stopped taking photographs at about 15:30 and started heading home, having only covered about half of the cemetery.
It was my second cemetery visit of the day - I visited Paines Lane Cemetery around midday before meeting Floriana - and ultimately, I had an even longer journey home afterwards than I'd expected. I don't recall the exact journey time, but it was substantially more than the already long 1.5-hour Tube journey it should have been due to train issues.
Seeking others' ancestors
A woman from Ontario contacted me in June 2023 via a comment on my photo of a grave in Brockley and Ladywell Cemeteries. She approached me about locating and photographing the graves of two of her ancestors.
Knowing how vast and overgrown those two cemeteries are, that there's no clear demarcation between them and how old the graves she sought were, I hadn't been too hopeful of finding them.
On that occasion, I spent about 45 minutes searching for the graves with no luck, and I couldn't find any groundskeeping staff on site to ask for assistance.
I contacted the Friends of the Cemetery shortly after my visit to see if someone could point me in the right direction. I was cat-sitting for a friend nearby so I could return more easily than usual. However, without a section letter, they couldn't assist. I passed the information on to the woman who had contacted me, but she chose not to pay for access to records that might have provided her with the complete plot number for me to follow up further.
Finding Bianca
I was far more confident that I could locate Bianca's grave with the map and plot location provided.
Monica had mentioned in her messages that she feared the grave would be overgrown. I hadn't expressed my concern that it may be worse than that.
When I visited both Paines Lane Cemetery and Pinner New Cemetery, I recall being shocked at how poorly maintained the graves seemed. Admittedly, I was visiting during the depths of winter, and it had been raining much of the time while I wandered through Paines Lane Cemetery. And while the weather had cleared somewhat before I reached Pinner New Cemetery, the paths were still far from dry. But the drainage in Pinner New Cemetery seemed insufficient, especially in the sections I spent most time in, which were at the bottom of a gentle slope.
I was nervous that I would visit Bianca's grave and find it waterlogged.
Thankfully, on the day I visited, it was a brisk three degrees, and the grass and flowers still held a light frost in the early afternoon, but there were blue skies and no rain to worry about. Bianca's plot is also at one of the higher points of the cemetery, so it's less affected by poor drainage.
The map Monica sent me proved very helpful in locating Bianca's grave, although I initially overshot into the furthest section of the cemetery.
Once I rechecked my location, I questioned what the map was showing me. Beyond the first row or two of graves near the path, a large part of the section seemed to be only lawn at first glance.
But then I realised there were flat headstones inlaid into the lawn that had become partially sunken. That made it hard to be 100% sure which plot was which, and I initially lifted away fallen leaves from a gravestone about two plots over from Bianca's.
I should have photographed each gravestone before I pulled away the leaves, in case I had found the correct grave. But I didn't think of that as I was more intent on discovering Bianca's final resting place than making aesthetic choices and capturing photographic 'reveals'.
When I found the right plot, I was pleased but simultaneously disappointed for Monica and her mother that the grass and soil had encroached so far across the inscription.
After removing all the leaves, I found that, short of asking a groundskeeper (none were in sight) or gently taking a trowel (that I didn't have) to the surrounding lawn, I would only be able to photograph about half to two-thirds of the gravestone for them.
But at least I could see enough of Bianca's name, month of death and age at passing that I could be sure I had found her.
I took photos of the gravestone and of it in the context of the surrounding graves to share with Monica. I placed some of the leaves I had removed from the marker back onto the grass by the grave.
Although I'm not particularly spiritual, I talked to Bianca while photographing her gravestone. Letting her know her niece had sent me to find her and that her family was thinking of her.
I took most of the photos of the grave with my D700, but I captured a couple with my iPhone and sent one to Monica before I left the cemetery to let her know I had found Bianca.
Monica hadn't told her mother about my mission until she sent her the photograph I had sent. It was lovely to hear about her emotional response to the photo.
It gave me a warm glow to have been able to go just a little out of my way to capture something so important to others, to be their eyes across the pond.
strangers' cemetery
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 19 May 2025].
I photographed the Strangers' Cemetery on the Isle of Portland as Phil and I walked past it on our way to The Merchant's Incline.
I had every intention of returning to photograph the graves more closely from inside the cemetery before we left the island, but we ran short on time, so all of my photographs are from beyond the stone wall.
There's very little information about the cemetery online. The Portland Town Council's entry is, literally, a blank page.
The Commonwealth War Graves Commission's entry has only slightly more information, noting three Commonwealth War Graves from the First and Second World Wars, the cemetery's location, a photo and little else.
The only other interesting information I've found is that, apparently, the buildings surrounding the cemetery were built to house competitors, etc., for the sailing competition in the 2012 London Olympic Games.
Based on what I can find online regarding other cemeteries or burial grounds with similar names in the UK, Jersey and Guernsey, it seems likely the occupants were not local, possibly foreign nationals, paupers, or other folk without any known surviving relatives. However, as I didn't get close enough to read any inscriptions, I can't confirm the veracity of that assumption.
how come u don't call me anymore?
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 14 May 2025].
Egads! Where did April go?
I had a sitting with my regulars near the start of the month, then the ten-day sitting with Dudley and Betsy mentioned in my last post.
My birthday fell just before Easter this year. Usually, I spend it visiting a gallery and/or photo editing. I had thought it would be a sedate affair, editing photos with the doggos for company, as I was away from home.
However, two friends took up my invitation to visit me and the puppers on separate occasions over Easter. I also had an in-person catch-up with a client I'm designing a website for the day before my birthday, which I'd booked as annual leave.
So, I was spoilt for social engagements and spoiled myself with cheese from The Bishop's Cave (as you do). A Cornish Yarg wrapped in nettles (I decided to try the original version, as it had been recommended to me previously, but I'll indulge in the garlic version next time!), a truffle Brie, and a Scottish Blue Murder, formerly known as 'Blue Monday', for those who are wondering.
Since I returned from Bishop's Stortford, I visited The World of Tim Burton exhibition at the Design Museum with a friend. I had another sitting with my regulars, which included three more social engagements, two of which were a little last-minute (and one was virtual and lasted over five hours!)
Then last weekend, I travelled to Brighton to catch up with friends and meet a kitteh called Chilli, whom I'll be sitting for the second half of June.
I'm doing daily visits with a local senior kitteh this weekend, and planning to visit The Face Magazine: Culture Shift exhibition at the National Portrait Gallery with a friend. Otherwise, I'm at home for a stretch, which is nice.
Aside from cheese and socialising, I've been dealing with some health stuff (nothing major), including learning about predictive genetic testing, working my day job, completing over 365 days of learning Welsh on Duolingo, trying to get back up to date with my life admin (more sinking than swimming, it sometimes feels) and trying not to wear my fingertips to the bones with doom scrolling.
I already have photos edited for posts later in the week, but I hope to spend a large portion of this week/end editing more and creating other pieces to share with you.
Oh, and this photo is from my visit to the Isle of Portland in September last year. Nice light on that telephone box.
If you feel inclined, let me know how you're doing in the comments x
the river stort
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 20 March 2025].
Last summer, I spent three weeks in Bishop's Stortford, sitting two cheeky puppers, Dudley and Betsy.
On the last Bank Holiday of the year, I popped out for a walk with my camera along the River Stort in the canalised section that runs through the town, known as the Stort Navigation.
I have a series of photos to edit and share with you from that day, but this one looks back along part of where I'd walked.
I'll be back in the town for ten nights next month, sitting those cheeky puppers again.
a solitary red bauble
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 11 December 2024].
white apples and berries
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 9 December 2024].
the reindeer section
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 4 December 2024].
My life is currently so chaotic, messy and stressful that I almost forgot it's time for season's grievings.
My current mood is something akin to this reindeer Christmas decoration on a child's grave in Pinner New Cemetery that I photographed just under a year ago.
I'm sharing this for patrons only a few hours instead of two days early to allow me to catch up.
I'll post the second image for this year later today, which will be closer to a day early.
The third will be posted tomorrow, two days early, and then I'll be back on schedule.
While I'm here and referencing the Scottish supergroup with my title for today's instalment, I highly recommend giving them a listen (if you haven't previously), specifically their second album, Son of Evil Reindeer.
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.
angelic youth
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 9 June 2024].
memorial to heroes of the marine engine room
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 5 May 2024].
I let the team down.
This monument and some flowers attached to a railing near the Isle of Man ferry terminal were the closest I came to photographing a grave while visiting Liverpool last week.
Nostalgia was heavily represented: tributes in various forms to The Beatles, Billy Fury and others. And my memories of Pier Head swirling around my head.
But my time in the city was too short to allow time to seek out a cemetery.
There may have been graves in the Our Lady and St Nicholas Church Garden, but I only paused briefly to capture the church before moving on.
And even when I photographed this monument, I had forgotten seeing it on the map.
Google Maps records it as the Titanic Memorial. Wikipedia tells me that was the original intent of the monument. However, it took on a broader recognition of the heroes of the marine engine room after World War I.
From Wikipedia: The memorial was intended originally to commemorate all 32 engineers who died in the sinking of Titanic on 15 April 1912. Liverpool was the Titanic port of registry, as well as the home of the ship's owner, White Star Line. Construction was funded by international public subscription.
Spaces were left on the monument to record the names of other engineers. However, due to the heavy loss of life throughout World War I, its dedication was broadened to include all maritime engine room fatalities incurred during the performance of duty. Shrapnel damage from bombs that fell during the Second World War can be clearly seen on the monument.
The shrapnel damage mentioned is apparent in the photo I took. However, I was so conscious of time (and the weight of my luggage on my shoulders) that I didn't stop to inspect the monument more closely and take more photos. I only looked up this information after editing. I realised I should have spent more time capturing it.
past his bedtime
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 22 April 2024].
One of the first graves I came across in the Glasgow Necropolis was that of poet William Miller, who "appears to have popularised a pre-existing nursery rhyme, [Wee Willie Winkie,] adding additional verses to make up a five stanza poem" and publishing the same in 1841.
I didn't know there was a monument to him there, and to be honest, I couldn't have named him, though I grew up learning at least the poem's first stanza. The monument stood out because of the detailed profile of him.
He died destitute, and his remains are interred in an unmarked grave in Tollcross Cemetery.
Though I've read enough Irvine Welsh novels to understand a reasonable amount, I don't know enough Scots to understand Miller's original without the paraphrased version in English alongside it.
Despite that, I love reading it, and I share the complete poem below, courtesy of Wikipedia:
Wee Willie Winkie rins through the toon,
Up stairs an' doon stairs in his nicht-gown,
Tirlin' at the window, crying at the lock,
"Are the weans in their bed, for it's now ten o'clock?"
"Hey, Willie Winkie, are ye comin' ben?
The cat's singin grey thrums to the sleepin hen,
The dog's speldert on the floor and disna gie a cheep,
But here's a waukrife laddie, that wunna fa' asleep."
Onything but sleep, you rogue, glow'ring like the moon,
Rattlin' in an airn jug wi' an airn spoon,
Rumblin', tumblin' roon about, crawin' like a cock,
Skirlin like a kenna-what, waukenin' sleepin' fock.
"Hey Willie Winkie, the wean's in a creel,
Wamblin' aff a bodie's knee like a verra eel,
Ruggin' at the cat's lug and raveling a' her thrums-
Hey Willie Winkie – see there he comes."
Wearit is the mither that has a stoorie wean,
A wee, stumpie, stousie, that canna rin his lane,
That has a battle aye wi' sleep afore he'll close an e'e-
But a kiss frae aff his rosy lips gies strength anew to me.
she hath done what she could
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 6 March 2024].<
Often, when I'm perusing my catalogue of unedited photos to share, one will pop out at me, and I just know it's right to share at this moment in time.
It may not always be the most eye-catching or aesthetically pleasing photograph.
But it captures where my mind or heart is right now.
Or it depicts a place, an object, a plant, etc., that - when I research it further - is relevant to something in my life at that moment and clicks.
This photograph I took in Cornubia Lutheran Cemetery, also known as Carbrook Lutheran Cemetery, did that for me today.
coaxing life from death
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 26 February 2024].
5 weeks
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 28 December 2023].
sunshine on wreath
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 24 December 2023].
stale wolf-fart
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 15 December 2023].
I took this photo of a puffed-out Lycoperdon last month in London Road Cemetery, Bromley.
The origin of the scientific name did give me a giggle.
From Wikipedia: The scientific name has been created with Greek words (lycos meaning wolf and perdon meaning to fart) and based on several European dialects in which the mushroom name sounds like wolf-farts.
I'm not sure this sounds appetising to the vegetarian palate: Most species are edible, ranging from mild to tasting distinctly of shrimp.
The puff holes remind me of cigarette burns.