A Cotswold village like so many others nestling in the hills and deep valleys
The light playing on the honey coloured stonework creating dancing and flickering shadows. Stone houses, some built in the 13th century - hundreds of years of history steeped within their walls
The sun glints on the window panes, a curtain flutters. All is still, quiet, just the rustle of leaves and the sound of bird song. A peaceful day
Was it really less than two weeks ago that we walked these same sunlit, dappled, stonewalled lanes; the light sparkling, but the mood solemn; the only sound, a mournful toll from the old church bell?
This is the spot where our friend was laid to rest; here amongst the ancient yew trees in a peaceful churchyard. Her last journey, a coffin of woven wicker, fresh flowers threaded through it by her friends from their gardens. In our hearts we silently bid our sad farewells. Time stood still, for centuries this village has witnessed it all before. A dog barks, a child laughs, a rose opens - time moves on, but memories linger
Bobbie - a 60s girl