If the Great War teaches us anything, it is that it continues to provide its lessons…It offered me the chance to find a voice and I accepted…I can only hope that in some small way I have, through my clatterings, found the voices of those with whom I have visited whilst searching for my peace.
Category: Belgium
…and now we have been
Thread Fourteen: The landscapes of France and Flanders…London…have offered of themselves…their connections to us. We have rediscovered, found, observed and, above all, we have become connected. In finding the threads between the thimbles and needles we have bore witness the fabric of history…perhaps patchwork…but ours for all time.
Beside a Prince and a Private
Thread Nine: Headstones and memorials require continual maintenance and often I have been delighted to see their work in progress as gardeners and stone masons tend the myriad of plantings and built landscapes.
The Colour of Peace
Thread Eight: Some are surprised to see that the Menin Gate Memorial is within the city, a short walk from the square where traffic is stopped for every evening’s Last Post by the buglers of the Fire Brigade.
Mrs. Kate Palmer’s Walk
Thread Seven: 1922 – Kate Palmer of Victoria, B.C. journeyed to Belgium to visit her son’s grave at Woods Military Cemetery, south of Ypres.
Upon the Ramparts
Thread Six: …and there it sat upon the rampart, left by someone who chose this place here by the stone, above the canal, towards the Kiplinglaan.
When We Are Absent One From Another
Thread Four: I move on, across the canal to bring myself closer to the British Legion flag bearers who have carried with them their identities from across the United Kingdom.
Something On This Wall
Thread Two: The moth flies in erratic fashion fleeing the notes of multiple bugles at the Menin Gate Memorial tonight. Many visitors are here this fine and warm evening armed with cameras and children held aloft for better views. What is it that they have come to see?
The Highway to One Man of Passchendaele
The Highway takes us up the island to our turn to the left…..to a solitary church…..near to a railway bridge…..near to a river.
This Land of Crimson
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.