Remember Diddley.

Posted on 19/08/2018 By

Diddley

Remember Diddley.

19 August 1950 to 23 August 2015.

video
Listen to Leonard whilst you enjoy the slide show further down the blog.
Remember Diddley: There's a crack, a crack in everything. That's how the light gets in. Leonard Cohen.

There’s a crack, a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in. Leonard Cohen.

Remember Diddley:

The slide show below are all new pictures. Many from prints, so the quality is a little variable. But that’s the price you pay for irreplaceable shots. The memories live on.

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Lighting a Candle to Diddley

Every week, we remember Diddley and light a candle.

Lighting a Candle to Uncle Dennis

Uncle Dennis 15th July 1930 to 30 July 2018

Diddley loved Uncle Dennis seen here on a boat at Whitby 2008.

Diddley loved Uncle Dennis; seen here on a boat at Whitby 2008.

So we lit a candle for each of them from Shelagh (above), Bobby and Trevor. Swifts Hill Slad where Diddley’s ashes lie.

Lighting a Candle for Diddley and Uncle Dennis. Swifts Hill Slad.

Swifts Hill Slad.

Remember Diddley: Lighting a Candle.

Laurie Lee poetry post, Swifts Hill Slad. We remember Diddley and Uncle Dennis.

See www.mindfullybertie.org.uk/laurie-lee-poetry-posts

Field of Autumn

Slow moves the acid breath of noon
over the copper-coated hill,
slow from the wild crab’s bearded breast
the palsied apples fall.

Like coloured smoke the day hangs fire,
taking the village without sound;
the vulture-headed sun lies low
chained to the violet ground.

The horse upon the rocky height
rolls all the valley in his eye,
but dares not raise his foot or move
his shoulder from the fly.
The sheep, snail-backed against the wall,
lifts her blind face but does not know
the cry her blackened tongue gives forth
is the first bleat of snow.

Each bird and stone, each roof and well,
feels the gold foot of autumn pass;
each spider binds with glittering snare
the splintered bones of grass.

Slow moves the hour that sucks our life,
slow drops the late wasp from the pear,
the rose tree’s thread of scent draws thin –
and snaps upon the air.

Laurie Lee ~ 1945

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Diddley    


  1. Fliss Drewett says:

    Thinking of you Bobby. Each year hurts a liittle less but the ache never goes. Miss you Di xx

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