An innocent day, a year ago. We were out at a Rode Hall, walking through the bluebell woods. No sign of the troubles ahead.

I wish I could hold the hand I held for 43 years, so firm and strong, walking into sunlight with you. Taking each step carefully along the path. You leading the way, supporting me.

I heard the birds singing and felt a gentle breeze that shook the bluebell heads. Nodding in the dappled shade. All ready for some fairy parade when we were gone.

I drew this later from a photo, I wish I could go back in time.