Bradshaw, me, and journeying

Since January this year George Bradshaw and his Hand Book to London, 1862, have been my companions in London. Together with a small camera we have walked purposefully and wandered thoughtfully through the City. I have spent hours reading and searching for facts, and more hours arranging material on the new blogsite.

Why?

My mother died last year. All the expressions we use – ‘transitioned’, ‘passed on’, ‘lost’ – carry the hope of reunion, meeting again. In the first months I could feel her with me almost all the time. But I was in a shadow world, I watched myself exist in the days, with restless nights. Perhaps if I had children there would have been an ‘anchor’ in the future, some reason for returning.

I needed to move on, to journey. By chance I found my guide, and I stepped out in the freezing cold of January, walking, my only purpose to understand what I was reading. I wanted to see, and I started taking photographs.

Have I arrived anywhere? Or found a direction? No, but I feel I am not ready to return to the shadow world. I am blessed with friendship which has the courage to journey with me, and grateful to readers who follow.