Monday, 25 June 2012

Blackiston Anglican Cemetery

Its odd, isn't it, how you can miss things for years, and only just discover them and wonder why you had not noticed it before.

That's what this little place is. Tucked behind the agapanthus, on the main road between the towns of Littlehampton and Nairne, is this sorely neglected cemetery. It has such a hint of old things, old times and forgotten people. A time when people died young, and they erected magnificent head stones and planted rose bushes and hawthorn trees, to remember their existence. To remember the love. And now there is not much left at all but falling, crumbling stone and tombs, and the drip of the rain and long grass and weeds to wet your feet.
Today it was so densely foggy. I nipped out this morning, it is just around the corner from where I live, and went for a little visit. I do have to say, I got a little thrill down my back bone standing in all that fog, in a desolate and deserted cemetery. But all I heard were the cars driving past, in a hurry to go somewhere, and a few birds cawing to each other.
So I guess this is it. The way it all ends, some day. With the headstones facing east, toward the rising sun, with the clouds above, and the silence below. And the peace. And things keep on growing, and changing, and old things fall, and new things are built. 
But there is a sense of peace, here, a silent, well earned rest. Just a cycle of life. And these few memories left behind.

 The Old Anglican Church. ( No longer in use. )


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