Yet another window with white blinds
Where you never can quite see her face
The face I know who watches me
Today strange shadows fill the panes the space
Are they the marks of my lady?
(Who got lost in time so long ago)
Is this her scratching to be free?
I know she’s there
I have seen her name
Carved hidden in these walls
Here I am Violet with my camera!
…..by this tree …..
Gill McGrath©

In my search for family through census records I have found that there was a long tradition of calling the girls flower names…. which by chance has carried on to this day…. Most of the girls in the family since  forever were given flower names (including one Rhododendron called Rhoda! The latest addition is Poppy Mai) So when I find a new address of women or girls associated with close family lines…… cousins aunts grandparents  (on the census or later with any other snippets of information to hand) rather crazily I have looked for something of their actual traces. First I looked for carved names (even painted graffiti) names close to where they actually lived….. rather than gravestones. The men in the family were mostly infamous rascals, and I have collected the photos and other things on them, so they live and are OK! Its their  women who are faceless and it is they who seemed to have died too young. I simply wondered if any of these young women or old women had ever carved their names on anything  (like I did and as my sister did…. once) close to where  we lived. Now I look in the streets and places these other women once were….. and I have simply started finding flowers and write about it too … . (So if you ever see a flower name scratched anywhere let me know…its mine!)