God plants seeds in very nation. Wherever you look, God has blessed a landscape with something incredible. A freak of nature, a beauty in life, something unique which makes that place unique.

For us, it was another one those things that make the land our home. The wildflowers were exquisite, dotting the landscape.

I remember this time on a picnic, and Ella pulled me into the woods, and the beauty was dazzling. It was a fairyland. The snowdrops bluebells, buttercups, these really bright orange flowers. She warned me to stay away from one area where there was a tick, and even at this young age I’d developed a healthy fear of the deadly bugs.

But the wildflowers were a beauty I hoped to capture forever. I’d pick them and take them home, despite the fact that it was forbidden. I only took a few, don’t worry. I was upset because I knew they’d soon shrivel, but Mum and Dad showed me how you can dry them instead. We pressed them into a thick book, left them for weeks. Sometimes as we’d moved, we’d flick through these books to see which ones to keep, and find flat, colourful flowers pressed between the leaflets of Russian dictionaries and baking paper. I was mesmerised by how we could capture their beauty, making it somewhat immortal.  

The books were kept in the same cupboard as the one where Dad hid a pack of glittery lead pencil which he handed out one by one as rewards.

Dad found a passion for photography which grew with the wildflowers. Sometimes he’d go out into the woods alone, and take photos of them, quietly pick a few. I would ride my bike in this forest, and they were long, pleasant rides, walking distance from our house. There were a few distinctive trees, forks in the path. I think when I return there, I’ll have flashbacks. But something about it tickles my mind. The endless joys and pockets of beauty in the captivating forest.

A gift from God.

I’m sorry I haven’t written much My mind is all over the place. The past is the past, but I’ll try to write more.