Sunday, 29 March 2009
I'm not sure how much others feel the same about this, but I love old graveyards. There is something about the feeling of an ancient piece of ground with the beautiful headstones that sometimes tell such sad tales nestled quietly 'neath the boughs of twisted and tangled trees. I was in such a one only last week, one with a particularly serene and perfect setting in the nearby village of Mawnan. It overlooks the Helford River and has dear little grass pathways meandering through yew trees and buddleiah, holly and lilacs, all of which have that strange shorn-on-one-side growth pattern so typical of Cornwall with its prevailling seaward winds.
I found such lovely headstones of weathered granite that I went back to the car to collect the camera. The sun came out from behind pewter clouds, almost shy in its reluctance as Isabella and I wandered through searching for sage green and burnt orange lichens, the vibrancy of the colour softened by both age and the coolness of the winter-turned light.
Sometimes it is the epitaph that catches my eye and others the stone in all its shades and textures. Usually it is a combination of both, though in this instance it was more the setting with the ivy trailing over the words and the decorative edging making the whole reminiscent of a Gothic novel flysheet which appealed greatly to me - I am very much a fan of the Gothic genre it has to be said.
Some were almost too picturesque with swathes of primroses or, as in this case, arum lilies at the feet.
But most of them were resting that eternal rest with the birds singing in the treetops and the river gently sparkling on the shore below. Just so very peaceful.
Other things this last week: a trip to the fishing village of Porthscatho for chips and tea with Granny Mother and Isabella. It was freezing cold with a biting easterly wind and the tide was out nstead of crashing against the quay wall as it usually is, but we had fun nonetheless.
A couple of hours at the allotment this morning in much warmer, though still jolly cold, weather. The broad beans looked like this:
The cut-and-come again like this...
onions and garlic
and we even brought home some rhubarb for a crumble to go with the roast pork I am cooking for later on. It is slowly cooking in the oven and filling the house with wonderful smells - a meal to be shared with our eldest son and his girlfriend over chat and laughter, hopefully in fairly equal measures.
Oh, I have just realised I have uploaded all the pictures on a large setting. Ah well, too late to change it now, so apologies if they seem to shout at you!
Have a good Sunday x