There was only one. Emerging like a miracle from the sand dunes. I took this photo in March and gave it to her. She made it her wallpaper and it was the background to her work, her writing, her photos. I’m still not sure what it is, but I’m not going to carry on looking for it, or looking it up. I’m just going to look at it. Perfect and imperfect, on its way through life.
Teleri, or Chaiselongue, my partner for forty years, died suddenly of a heart attack at a moment of happiness and light on the morning of 6th July. I’ve not had the heart since then to think of working on this blog, but I do continue to be fascinated by how things grow and change, and I’d like to continue. The posts may be shorter and further apart for a while.
Teleri’s friends and contacts on the website blipfoto.com have written wonderful tributes which you can find here.
an entangled bank 
This is a poem, every word the right word in the right place. I love knowing that Teleri loved this perfect and imperfect mystery, ephemeral and one of a kind. I am very happy to hear that you want to continue this blog. I have always loved it, and it is dearer now to me than ever before, because now there is only one of you to hear from. Take all the time you need. I am subscribed and will stay subscribed. I am here and will stay here as long as I’m able. I am grateful to Ceridwen for saying that our job now is to “bear witness for those who leave the world too soon.” I know she had Teleri in mind when she said that, and I think she said it for you, for me, for all of us in each of our losses. That is a job for us. Bearing witness. To the plants on an entangled bank, to the music that gets us through the night, to the events that matter to us, to the people who, like us, will be here a little longer. And then gone. We still have each other, for a little longer. The time is precious. Your words are precious to me. Love is all there is, then and now and always.
Your support matters so much to me – as generous as are your comments. I’ll get back to botany, and with a clearer view that, as a friend said in the village the other day, ‘Richard, nous ne sommes pas grand’ chose’.
How perfect to have this picture of an unnamed, unknown flower in memory of dear Teleri. In that way, it is what it is, uncategorised, just its own beautiful self as she was always herself, definite in her opinions, interested in so much. Life in the south had opened up for her like a beautiful flower and she had known such happy times in her too short time in Gabian. We will miss her and remember so many splendid meals and wonderful evenings at your house or ours. M&M xxx
I’m so sorry …. I never met her but her blog was so interesting and I felt her life force behind it. Her death is shocking news indeed. I do hope you will continue your blog.
bonnie in roquebrun
Thanks – I’ll do my best, but inspiration is a bit dry at present, even if I’m stockpiling images. Blogging has been too much fun to stop.
I am so sorry to read this news this morning. I have enjoyed both of your blogs so much & I will miss Olives & Artichokes & send you my heart felt sincere condolences.
She has left you a quest, a challenge, a little miracle. How beautiful for Teleri to die in a moment of happiness and light, but how sad for you to have had to let her go. Still thinking about it all so much.
How true all this is. It will take us all quite a while….
I love to think of Teleri having this photo as the backdrop to her work. Yes, just look at its beauty, without seeking to know more. I am glad you’re blogging again.
It was a private image I wasn’t going to blog, but it wouldn’t go away from my mind. Thanks for your encouragement as always.
Deeply moving this, in its imperfect perfection. It is the imperfections which create uniqueness of course, hence those marvellous images of time-worn ironwork and weathered stone, flaking paint and lopsided doors. I hope that you will continue your blog, as and when you can, I second everything that Kendall has already said.
Ceridwen, it just had to be done, I didn’t want to have to do it, and I hope I did it OK. It’ll be easier for the next post. And don’t we always second everything Kendall says?
Sorry to hear of your loss. I have followed both of your blogs and learnt a lot and enjoyed the words and photos. I always meant to write but left it too late. If you felt able to continue the blog it would be appreciated by many.
This is sad news. I can’t really say anything terribly meaningful — I’ve only recently discovered both your blogs, so it is sad to lose one so soon. You have written beautifully of your loss.
Sorry to hear this bad news. I will ónly mis her pictures, recipes and inspiring blog. This is nothing in comparison whith your loss.
I give you my condolences.
Sorry if this English is a bit weird but that is because I’m Dutch
Have just read your very sad news. I’d like to send my condolences and the hope that you have all the support you need to get through such a great loss. Such beautiful tributes. Your friends will be your strength. Thank you for making that beautiful post.
I came to your blog missing her blog. So sorry for your loss.
Teri
Oh no, Oh.. I kept on going to her blog and wondering why there was nothing, then thought to look on here to see if you were on holiday. I am so very, very sorry, I shall miss her blog so much and well, you are going to miss her far far more. x
Thank you for contacting me – it’s always good to hear from her friends. I should really have put something on her blog, but it happened so suddenly and I don’t have passwords etc…The fellowship of others who miss her does help.
Well, I have read a few of your posts too over the years as I was a (paid)gardener and very keen on all matters horticultural. I rarely commented on her blog but loved it, and the recipes and photos. My husband is an area butterfly counter so I showed him your photos, and even when we were down your way this summer he was still counting butterflies! There is no similar system operating in France.
Although you rarely get to meet people who write blogs, they cannot help but let their personality shine through so that you feel that you know and like them. So it is indeed like losing a friend, and I was dismayed a couple of years ago when a blogger died and the blog was deleted by the partner. I would want my husband’s rather sparsely written blog to remain, in tesamment to him. But you can keep it alive by providing links to it on occasion, should you wish. I expect others will also have found their way to you, as she mentioned your blog not all that long ago, but haven’t known what to say. Nor do I really. Take care, I was still thinking of you when I awoke this morning, wish I could do more.
Just to have commented is already a good thing. Do send a link sometime to your husband’s butterfly blog – I’d be interested. I will get back to this blog and have lots of ideas and plants not yet featured, but very little time at present. I am trying to keep in touch with internet friends on Blipfoto, on which Teleri was very active. My journal is here.