Friday, 25 April 2014
What a lovely place to sit and eat my packed lunch... (and later I retired to the pub in Arncliffe, where they still serve ale out of jugs.) Someone has thoughtfully placed a memorial bench in the churchyard, overlooking the River Skirfare and the bridge. It was so peaceful, enjoying the spring yellow of the daffodils and the celandines and watching little birds busily collecting nesting material. Some of the gravestones are covered in thick lichen but many are still readable. I was touched by those you see nestled together on the left of the photo. One is the grave of a three-year-old boy who died in 1936. Almost touching it is another stone, that of his mother Jane who died in 1996 aged 81. Her husband, John, and possibly another son and daughter, who both died in their 40s/50s, are buried a few yards away. Jane appears to have outlived them all.