This picture without a title hangs in the Red Lodge in Bristol . I've decided to call it "We Liked Our First Mother Better."
Meanwhile, in the garden of Bristol Cathedral, signs of recent revenant activity:
Yesterday I was taken by my friend Sue to the National Memorial Arboretum near Alrewas, a place full of affecting sights, but none stranger (after the recent heavy rain) than this memorial to the women of the ATS, which seems to have shuffled higher onto its rock to escape the flood...
And - well, I don't know why I liked this van particularly, but it pleased me to consider the versatility of the humble willow, which can both build you a basket to go hot-air-ballooning in, and then bury you after you've fallen to your death. Truly, it is a noble plant.