Crocus

On the edge of Nottingham, just across the road from the Ice Arena (soon to be invaded by Torvill, Dean and spangled, sequinned nonentities) grow little clumps of bright yellow crocus. After ten minutes fighting with the latest version of the one-way system, I got out of the car to blip them, and stepped back in time for a minute.

Here's what the little notice board said: the little grassy bank I was standing on was once an ancient burial ground associated with St Mary's Church (which I am going to blip when I work out where to park), granted to the Parish by Evelyn, Duke of Kingstone for the sum of ten shillings, in 1742. In the following century, it was used to bury the victims of a Cholera epidemic and finally closed in 1887.

Since I've resumed blipping, I'm finding out things about my adopted city all the time.