These hearts were woven of human joys and cares, Washed marvellously with sorrow, swift to mirth. The years had given them kindness. Dawn was theirs, And sunset, and the colours of the earth. These had seen movements, and heard music; known Slumber and waking; loved; gone proudly friended; Felt the quick stir of wonder; sat alone; Touched flowers and furs and cheeks. All this is ended. There are waters blown by changing winds to laughter And lit by the rich skies, all day. And after, Frost, with a gesture, stays the waves that dance And wandering loveliness. He leaves a white Unbroken glory, a gathered radiance, A width, a shining peace, under the night. - Rupert Brooke (1914)

first photos with my new dear friend izzie austin.
...i've been thinking recently about war brides. about love that bled out on battlefield. and after lived in drawers, 
tucked away in secret places. worn letters. photos of handsome heroes. the ghosts of our grandmothers.