As I dropped my husband off to work on Monday morning before 6am, it was still dark. Walking the dogs, I was struck by the solitary beauty of the war memorial and adjacent empty flagpole that were spot lit from the ground, ready and waiting for today’s dawn service.
Today has been Anzac Day in Australia, a day Australians take seriously and pause to honour. This morning the scene I had witnessed yesterday had been replaced with the aftermath of the service and the tributes that were lying at the foot of the monument.
The eagle-eyed may be able to spot the head of one dog and the tail of another in this image, but the thing that drew my eye was the simple tribute that was lying slightly distanced from the others. It had been clearly hand made and written by someone of advanced years. The flowers had been handpicked and sellotaped to an envelope which bore its message: