Feeling grave


Wednesday: I drove through a mizzle which, settling on the warm road, rose again in drifts and twirls of steam.  Pause for a churchyard:                        (click for the gallery)

The rain grew steadier.


8 responses »

  1. Churchyards are always fascinating places. Every single stone represents someone who lived, loved, knew joy, grief and probably suffering. Do you ever wonder what sort of people they were? Oliver Orchard, for instance. That’s a great name. I wonder what sort of bloke he was.

    • Oh yes – and some particular events are recorded on the stones, if you can read through the lichen. In an area like this, the continuity of surnames is fairly obvious too – for example, there are still Orchards, though couldn’t be sure it is the same family. (Not familiar enough with them to ask.)

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