I’m making a diorama of Saint Urith of Chittlehampton; her stepmother had her killed by harvesters with scythes. The flowers line the spots where her blood soaked the earth. Legend says that red gave way to white, to great blooms of yellow, of green and pink and palest blue; legend says spring itself was born of Urith’s suffering. Life blossoming out of the long dark stain of winter.
