A fallow period

This is my third fallow blip in the last 10 days. The ladies were keeping a cautious eye on me, while the one on the left was showing her true feelings.

It was meant to be a frosty, brilliant morning but at some point during the night a thick duvet of cloud enveloped us and the frost vanished to be replaced by the best grey mizzle that Cumbria has to offer. You can see from the settings for this blip how miserable the light was. I could see a vague blur through the viewfinder that was filling with water, thank goodness for autofocus.

Funerals are much bleaker on days like this, and the Lancaster Crematorium is a bleak place at the best of times. Today was Mark's funeral. Typically, when asked what arrangements he wanted, he had suggested being thrown in the river. His family compromised on the more acceptable option of a cremation, the bearers brought him in in a wicker coffin, and there were no sermons nor hymns. Just our thoughts and memories, and a few words from family, friends and colleagues. His last 14 weeks in a hospice and then a care home were times when surprisingly he found peace and contentment. Just a few days before he died, he was making himself useful out in the open air, sweeping up the leaves in the grounds of Holehird.

Mark loved a very special place, an ancient woodland next to the coast, with a vast expanse of raised bog, and teeming with wildlife. Most of all he loved working in the woods, creating the conditions for the red squirrels, dormice and butterflies to thrive. The place will always be associated with him in our minds. His spirit will be there now.