Don't Eat With Your Mouth Full

Where can we live but days?

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Stump Study
On the way back home this afternoon I stopped at Otterbourne Wood to pay my respects to my father's ashes, which just now are all bluebells and moss.

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On the way back home this afternoon I stopped at Otterbourne Wood to pay my respects to my father's ashes, which just now are all bluebells and moss.

His memory for a blessing. That's a beautiful transformation.

Thank you.

What a tranquil place. Beautiful. It looks as if it smells really good too.

My camera doesn't have that feature, but yes it does!

Lovely. Just lovely.

Thank you. It put me in mind of these lines from a poem I wrote for him a while ago:

What death has made of you, I do not know.
Perhaps you are the vastest star,
Or that still-vaster darkness where it burns,
Or soil, or stem, or now a spreading tree,
Or that thin web which from the sallow leaf
Extends. These mansions tenanted,
Where shall I seek you on the Greek Kalends?

Oh, that is just stunning!

When I saw its lavish greenery, I thought you might like it!

It's my desktop picture right now!

Oh, how lovely! A metamorphosis.

Nine

Yes - and no monstrous one.

Woodlands are so beautiful in the spring. What a lovely place to remember your father.

He didn't choose the place, but I think he would have approved it.

Such beauty.

Yes indeed.

I can think of many worse forms of resurrection!

This is surely one of the most beautiful places in the whole wide world. What a lovely spot for a final resting place.

When he died, I gave money to the Woodland Trust to preserve this acre in perpetuity, so I think of it as "his", though not in the sense of ownership.

We scattered him there on a later summer day in 2005, then walked to The Otter for a pub lunch. It was only later that I came in Spring and discovered the bluebells.

It's as if the bluebells were his gift back to you.

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