Tag Archives: angel

Angels everywhere, literally….

OK, I know this is a bit weird, but I’ve spent the afternoon in a Victorian cemetery. Abney Park in Stoke Newington to be precise. It was a photography course, and I had in mind to make some moody, gothic, black and white pictures. But the light was soft, the colours gently autumnal, so I ditched the B&W, and let the colours shine. It all became rather uplifting…

No straight verticals here.

This is a very Victorian place, and of course the Victorians would definitely have come here to walk about as in a modern day ‘park’. Not a convention we follow today. But not a bad one to do once in a while. Momento mori and all that.

Soft and hard

Leaning on each other for strength

What on earth could be uplifting in such a place you may wonder? Well, the faint memories that linger here are sad, but positive. The greening words on the stones are about love and remembrance, fondness and farewell. And the care that went into the preparation of these stones… Just look at the fonts and the scripts …

We remember you

We love you

Beloved Mary

Never forget you

Joseph, too young


In the middle of the Park is a ruined Church. It has a modern sculpture placed in the middle, a simile for the feelings that inhabit such a place.

And because this is Victoriana, we have angels everywhere. Guardians maybe…? actually no. Bringers of peace and soft love represented by hard stone . How wonderful is that.

Young angel

Soft stone

Ivy necklace

Aha! a classic guardian

The last picture, slightly Hardy-esque. A beautiful name, beautiful weathered stone. Someone has tidied this stone relatively recently, so Angel can be remembered again…

I saw an angel in the garden

If you look very carefully, in the background, hiding amongst the grasses, you can see an angel, hovering in the garden at my parents’s house.

A guardian angel

Why would an angel live in the garden at my parents’ house? Because she was invited to, of course, out of generosity and charity when a helping hand was needed. And now she lives in gentle repose, watching quietly. Is this not what gardens are for?

A place for relaxation and togetherness. Occasionally we still whack the tennis/cricket ball about, but more so we chat and spend time together.

The garden has become more magical with time. Strange mystical creatures flutter here and there.


My daughter adds her own personal belongings, echoing the loved toys of kids that have gone before. Tibby here, now very clearly a dog, was called Ollie 30 years ago, when he was an elephant. Poignant repetition.

Ollie and Tibby, kids then and now. Such thoughts keep us warm.

holding hands

And amongst it all is the angel, watching and smiling over us.

A garden Guardian, fleeting and beautiful

Mist and mellow fruitfulness

I went to visit my Dad this weekend. Bit of a crisis, Mum had to go into hospital, so I zoomed up the A1 to York to give my Dad a hand.

A portrait in the garden

Whenever I visit, we always walk around the garden. A chance to stretch the legs and get some fresh air. My Mum’s garden really, certainly the flowerbeds are – she put years into those deep borders. But the areas that catch the eye now are the orchard and the meadow. The season of mists and mellow fruitfulness is almost upon us.

Sweet eaters

The old bench

This is a garden that has matured and settled into a slow rhythm. It has its secrets and surprises.

An angel in the undergrowth


Seed head

That slow rhythm is wonderful though: Flowering, ripening, setting seed, rebirth. And memories, gardens always have lots of memories.

My Mum came back from hospital. We were relieved and thankful. Life goes on.

A kiss