A Stroll In The Churchyard

There were obelisks and crosses and carved ivy tendrils around the words ‘At Rest’. Cracked tiles and fragments of stone lay where they had fallen as throughout the monuments, some of very great age, are collapsing, very slowly into the soil.

The dogs stepped respectfully around plots and tiptoed through puddles on the paths as we read and paused and moved on.

There were Masons and husbands and wives and sacred to the memory ofs.

The rain came and went, several times, in gentle sun showers which threatened to worsen but couldn’t quite muster the energy to do it.

One man was born before white people arrived in Australia. There were three children, all toddlers, buried in quick succession in the same grave by parents who must have thought their torment was over. There was a little boy whose first two names were Donald and Bradman and who passed away before the cricketer’s retirement from the game. There was a Euphemia and an Honoria.

And some people think it a strange thing to visit a cemetery.

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Published in: on August 5, 2016 at 6:40 pm  Leave a Comment  

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