Words.

They’re a funny ole thing. It’s mid September and I’m tired and the words have all spun out. They’ve flown south, like the starlings, to roost and recover. As my dream-feet pace baked Roman roads (real feet tucked firmly under my Cornish desk) they’re chattering away to themselves and singing in the dying of the day while my mind sighs over the curling up of the summer, like a cat in front of her Aga – belly cream-full and whiskers ready to twitch with dreams.

Every Autumn rolls around and I’m hugely conscious of my silecne. On my leaning on my images to explain everything. To describe everything. To sing my songs for me.

So you will forgive, I hope, my brevity with what follows. I have nothing to scatter under your feet, so to speak.

Lucy and Simon, then, were married on a rainy day in my home town of Tavistock at St Eustachuis followed by a reception at Lucy’s home village of Coryton on the edge of Dartmoor. I’m a total and utter sucker for at-home weddings. I love the famillar chaos. Being at home lends a very different tone to the day. Plus, frankly, there’s usually lots more interesting textures for me to shoot and Lucy’s Mum’s home provided a fab fab canvas. Their wedding cake was unlike anything I have ever seen – white, dresed in fresh flowers that reminded me hugely of those scattered petals you find in Botticelli’s works. And on the subject of flowers. Oh, my! Amanda Randell totally and utterly did it again.

Lucy and Simon – thank you so so much for having me along for the day. It was absolutely beyond a treat xx