Gift

The very large tree in the churchyard at Holy Cross, Byfield underneath which my father's cremated remains are buried is heavy with blossom.  This is the view of the church tower and spire from the spot taken on 1st May, the nineteenth anniversary of his death and the day before we buried my mother's cremated remains in the same plot.  The canopy of blossom and the knowledge that it will return at this time each year seemed a real gift.