Memory is a Strange Thing

I think one of the greatest blessings of the human mind is memory. Memories of mistakes ensure that we learn, and memories of happy times can make us smile even through darker times. Memories crop up in the strangest ways; and oftentimes seemingly random occurrences remind me of a fond memory otherwise forgotten. This is a very personal post about my memories of Great Britain; a place which I haven’t seen since April 2015 but of which there is always a fond memory in my heart.

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Whenever there is sunshine after rain, I’m reminded of scenes like this one and the fresh hope they seem to convey

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My time in Britain wouldn’t have been so special without my family. As I get older, I value much more all the adventures we’ve had travelling together.

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All over Britain there are sheep… and here is a Welsh reminder of why I don’t eat lamb

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The nights are getting chillier now, and they remind me of driving through the clouds in North Wales. What an incredible atmosphere

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Here I am at Liberty in 2011. My trips to the UK have always been full of the wonder and awe of new places. What I’ve begun to realise over the past year is that this wonder and enjoyment can be found at home in everyday life too!

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Some of the best British memories are of my brother. We are true partners in crime, whether it comes to traipsing through ruins of castles (like here) or drinking pints at the pub.

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In England my interest in WWII was fanned into a fire. Without visiting numerous museums and airfields in 2011, I wouldn’t have gained the fascination or the knowledge I have now.

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There’s a lot of air traffic over Britain– not all of it civilian either! Seeing USAF F-15s take off from RAF Lakenheath is one of my favourite memories.

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Parking in central London is rather cramped. When I took this photo, I cringed to think of how the driver of the Aston Martin would manage to extricate his car!

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A good meal reminds me of London. And of course, every “good meal” includes a pint!!

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Every time I hear a Black Sabbath song, I think of when my dad and I drove through Birmingham with Black Sabbath and Ozzy Osbourne on the radio. Memory is a strange thing!

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