Sometimes I am sent photographs by families who have loved ones buried at Sun Rising, photographs that reach deep into my soul, sometimes with excruciating sadness, sometimes with utter delight, and sometimes a little of both.  Here is one that lifts me to a soul-smile and brings tears to my eyes.

Bubbles for Theo

Yes, it is taken at a jaunty angle, but have you tried to operate a bubble machine and take a photo at the same time … ?

The dramatic cloudscape has been common over these past few days, and above the meadow of buttercups, oxeye daisies, vetch, ragged robin, campion, red clover, plantains and so much more, the clouds are just glorious.

Rest in peace, little Theo, much loved. And thank you, Anna, for the lovely picture. X

A dreary summer’s day, with the sort of drizzle that is delicious on sun-warmed skin but chilly in a cool wind, and surreptitiously soaking: it is a day to find and remember the beauty in life.  How about this: red campion (Silene dioica).

Red Campion

Planted on a grave in memory of a fine fellow, much loved, this little plant has its flowers to the sunlight, and though I am anthropomorphising, each seems to me a face with a different expression from mischief to reflection to delight.

The dandelion clocks are a haze across the wildflower meadow and beneath the saplings at Sun Rising, but the colour is now coming from the buttercups, countless brilliant yellow buttercups, everywhere!

Buttercups beneath memorial saplings

Do you remember the days of childhood, lifting your chin as someone held a buttercup beneath it and informed you how much you loved butter? There is something beautifully strong and reckless about buttercups in such profusion that reminds us of childhood.  Amidst the memories of loss, let us feel the warmth that comes with memories of playful days and wonder.

The soft yellow-green foliage of new leaves is so beautiful.  Its brightness lifts the soul after a long wet winter, and its tenderness reflects our state – still waiting for the summer months to kick in and fill us with energy.  At Sun Rising, seeing the hedgerows green is always a delight, but watching the memorial trees put on their leaves is even more rewarding.

Spring Foliage on the Young Trees

Walking around the site, at this time I am checking every tree to check to see if they’ve made it through the winter.  Those newly planted last December are now putting out their first little leaves.  The cherries are coming into bloom, for some this being their first year of flowering (those that are three or four years old).  The trees that are now five or six years old are really coming into their own, with bluebells and wood anemones flowering beneath them.

With cowslips and dandelions across the meadows, it is a beautiful time at Sun Rising.

The first of the blackthorn coming into bloom in the hedge at Sun Rising, with hazel catkins beside, and all of it sparkling with the dew in the sunlight through the thick milky mist.

Blackthorn and Catkins

After such a mild and very wet winter, it seems appropriate to share this photograph, showing the buds of the pussy willow by the pond at Sun Rising.  If you look closely you can see the sparkling of rain drops on the buds themselves.

It’s a photograph taken on a phone, so not brilliant in quality, but it gives a good sense of the damp grey of the winter, but also the precious beauty of new life emerging.  Spring …

What a mild and wet winter we have had so far here in South Warwickshire.  The number of days when we’ve had a hard frost is still less than half a dozen.  When they do come, it is such a delight : cold but crisp, and you can feel the frost doing its job of cutting back, cleansing, clearing the environment, naturally.

Frost