I’ve been thinking again about mourning today, and the different ways in which we find ourselves reacting to the death of the Queen: from the sea of flowers brought by well-wishers to Buckingham Palace, to the crowds lining the streets to pay their respects to the Queen’s funeral cortège. I well remember the outpouring of grief after the death of Princess Diana, as my sister was terminally ill with breast cancer at the time, and died just three weeks later. I felt so bemused and bewildered when I saw my friends weeping inconsolably for Diana, a woman who they had never met, but now that I’m older, I can better understand their sorrow, expressing their own past losses, that perhaps had never been openly voiced until the communal mourning that accompanied the funeral of Princess Diana. For myself, I think I’d prefer to plant a rose in our garden, in memory of the Queen, rather than taking cut flowers to the Palace; although I’m very aware that everyone needs to grieve according to their individual choices. Anyway, I also wanted to share this wonderful picture by David Montgomery, of the Queen running up the stairs at Balmoral in 1968. This isn’t part of his formal portfolio of portraits from the day - which you can see @davidmontgomerystudio - but I do so love the atmosphere that is captured in this fleeting image. And it’s been on my mind while I was gardening in the twilight this evening - along with the second picture I’ve shared here, by Patrick Lichfield, of the Queen dancing at the Ghillies’ Ball at Balmoral. That’s how I’d like to remember her - dancing or running upstairs- just as we remember our own loved ones, and all those who have left us, yet remain forever cherished, within and without us. So in the end, as always, here’s to love...