When I was last at home (and I have to admit now that my home is where my family is), I took these two pictures on a walk with just me and Kezia. I am proud of these two photos because I'm not a good photographer.
This seemingly rural area is in the middle of a decaying ex-industrial northern town. The woods are, in many places, taped-off as the enormous ex-textile mill next door, now owned by the multinational Federal Mogul, was converted into an asbestos brake-pad factory and dumped waste into holes in the woods. And then had to stop and close its activities.
The photo of Kezia does not show her particularly happy, but serious. It was taken at the top of the mill's canal race (diverted water from the river to the mill's water-wheel, when long ago it had one)) she was beginning to get worried when this photo was taken, although she knew she was on the way home. The juxaposition of the vertical of the the tree-trunk on the right, the vertical sapling in the backgound on the left, the ferns at her feet and the stream flowing from background to forground and disappearing behind the tree all combine to make this a magical photo.
On our return she wouldn't pose in front of this graffiti commemorating Pink Floyd's Syd Barrett, although she grumpily had a Coca-Cola in our local pub.
When we got home, she slept - probably we went a little too far.
I am not there to show her and Jaime rural landscapes.