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It’s hard keeping up when the season suddenly accelerates, creating so many photographic opportunities!
There have been numerous transitions from fair to stormy weather which I can never resist…
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A few clouds appeared on a late afternoon and now that it stays light so late, I got to watch their progress.
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“T’is a storm coming missus.”
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The cloud broadened and flattened.
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Surrounding us, swallowing the blue.
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At day’s end, a rumble of thunder.
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And before long..
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Dee Dee cannot abide thunder.
She sought refuge beneath Grant’s bed.
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I, on the other hand, enjoyed it.
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The onset of night washed the sky deep blue.
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Next morning was GREEN!
It seems to me that colours are much brighter than they used to be.
Perhaps I pay more attention now.
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The day had not quite decided what to do with itself.
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The Green Mountains make a nice back drop to the Village of Cambridge which was very quiet.
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For a long time I’d been meaning to visit a small local graveyard.
There seems to be one on every corner.
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We were just around the corner that morning and the cherry trees were in bloom.
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This is a very small and old graveyard. Old by our standards.
There probably aren’t many visitors now.
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In 1976, which feels recent to me, the National Society of the Daughters of the Revolution placed new gravestones for these men.
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They were the only ones I was really able to read, all the other markers being too weathered.
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When they are legible, gravestones can be quite fascinating, often offering snippets of information that give an impression of the life and times of the deceased.
The Port Stanley cemetery in the Falklands told of fishermen lost at sea and a harsh existence in those very remote islands.
Still so very British, despite the vast separation of distance and time.
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Names are interesting too. This was one I had never come across before.
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Is it strange to say I find cemeteries comforting?
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Perhaps it’s those stones standing silently in neat rows.
The fuss and bother of life over with.
Being reassured that we all find peace in the end.
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There is really nothing morbid about the thought.
At least not for me.
I also find church graveyards peaceful and comforting places. Not so much official cemeteries, which tend to be big and sprawling. Sadly, most of the very old gravestones here are too worn away to read properly. They obviously didn’t have the money to buy a hard tombstone, and the cheaper sandstone didn’t survive centuries of English weather.
Best wishes, Pete.
I agree there is nothing morbid about cemeteries but, sadly, there are many in the UK that are very badly neglected and falling into decay.
Yes I agree about graveyards. Some of my ancestors are buried near where you are living.
Thank you, Carolyn, for the beautiful, and indeed comforting post! I love the wonderful photos of the sky, and fields, and am glad you realize that green is nicer than white. I also like old graveyards and reading about those resting there. My cats hate the storms too!
Joanna
Love the perspective in Dee Dee’s photo.
My partner is an avid WWI and WWII buff and constantly drags (exaggerating) me to Commonwealth War graves (if one exists) in every country we visit. These are more confronting than other graves, especially the graves at Normandy.
Yes, I imagine Normandy must be quite an experience.
Especially seeing the thousands of white crosses. I have 2 posts if you want something to read…just search on Normandy on my site. 😉
Like you, I would need to be there in silence. If I needed to speak, it would be in a whisper. Nothing else would be right.
It’s those people who take selfies while being loud and disrespectful that I can’t handle. I need to walk away otherwise, I’d have to say something.
Today I can’t decide what’s most beautiful in your post: The stormy skies or the beautiful cherry trees! We won’t specifically go looking for graveyards, but when it does come our way, I also like to walk through and read the names — and you’re right, there’s a story in just a few words on each tombstone … and somehow, it is a peaceful place to me too.