They are the only Papaver rhoeas (Corn Poppy) I have seen on this journey of discovery – their colour stands out amidst all this new growth from nature’s palette. Gentle in the breeze, catching the sun’s rays, their motion reminds me of a single moment when hurt is caught between the living and the fallen.
Author: Paul Ferguson
Say Not “Good-Night”
He was a soldier, unknown to me, but through my wanderings across Flanders I stumble upon his place. He is there with his fellow soldiers… who knew not what the day would bring.
Remember Them Well
This film is an allegory, a reminder of hurt in war where pain is masterly crafted in simple words (but my how I wish I could write them).
There and Back Again
I can imagine them gathered around a table perhaps with a jug of ale, mead or warm cider. Finger foods, breads, meats and good conversation abound in tales of great imagination possibly anchored in some old tale of Norse or other.
Thoughts of Home
Home is to the soldier what home is to all of us, a chance to be whole and to be part of something more than ourselves.
A Thousand Stars Away
Sometimes it is worthwhile letting some time pass by. It’s an opportunity for better reflection and gathering those thoughts that have laced their way through our day until this moment when at long last it is time to sit down and put virtual type to virtual paper.
It’s Best to be Dusty
Music, soundtracks, the tonal qualities that bring resonance to the ear, that unfold in the mind and create depth, meaning and memories. Music has always reminded me of my journeys; recovering bits of forgotten time when that one note, that melody takes me back, returning me to places and events, the experiences of my past.
Splinters
Like inverted stakes in the hearts of France and Flanders, the splintered trees from the fields of battle stand as rooted silhouettes. Their splinters litter the ground on which men once walked, crawled or ran; the belligerent skelfs, large and small, hurling about tearing and ripping the flesh, piercing the souls of men. Amongst the metal fragments, aimed engineering, gas and shrapnel balls these organic shards of nature took their toll. They, the soldiers, from all the pictures – seem to live in a world of black and white, with gray washes suggesting a continual haze from which men emerge between the trunks. The colour gone, leached from the landscape, drained into the ground where the roots of seemingly dead trees struggle to find a source of regeneration.
Side by Side
You may be lost, but you are not forgotten. For those who have traveled far, to fight in foreign lands, know that the soldier’s greatest comfort is to have his friends close at hand. In the heat of battle, it ceases to be an idea for which we fight. Or a flag. Rather we fight for the man on our left, and we fight for the man on our right. And when armies are scattered and the empires fall away, all that remains is the memory of those precious moments that we spent side by side. (Jack Durrance, The Four Feathers. Played by actor Wes Bentley)