I said I would contrive to visit the cemetery on one of my walks and so, today, I have.
I walked up Chickenless Alley, past the gated community and stopped in front of the gates of the cemetery to check opening and closing times. I would prefer not to get locked in by some nitpicking functionary. One happened to be standing next to the gate and apparently reading my thoughts said, “Open till seven, you got plenty of time.”
I had given myself ten minutes to walk around briskly and take one or two wretched photographs. I ended up wandering around for half an hour. This is probably due to the cytotoxic pollen drifting about from the hundreds of yew trees in the cemetery and making me lethargic. Apparently this pollen also induces headaches, migraines, aching joints, itching, skin rashes and asthma attacks. I also found out that eating yew leaves will kill you but the berries are safe to eat as long as you don’t eat the seeds.
I suppose it’s preferable that they grow yews in cemeteries rather than in primary schools.
There was an area devoid of trees with two rows of graves. On one side the graves each had the names of two or three nuns on them. On the other the graves were unmarked. Found this chap on one of the very plain nun graves:
Nearer the gate I found an abandoned greenhouse sepulchre full of dead plants and an ornate rusting crucifix. It was right next to the grave of a young boy with a statue of a football on it from the local club.
In the older part of the cemetery a lot of the graves had signs on them indicating in tasteful terms that the lease on them is running out and that cash should be forthcoming to the mayor’s office pronto.
I’ll leave you with another globe decoration for someone’s dead auntie – lugubrious cytotoxic trees in the background…