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September 2019



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chamekke in photo_scavenger




Few things are more melancholy than a badly overgrown graveyard. This photograph was taken in the Ilfracombe (Devon) parish churchyard in 2004 - eleven decades after 3-year-old William passed away.

(The church community has since cut back the brambles and tidied up the cemetery - making it much tidier, if admittedly less atmospheric.)


What a lovely picture.

I've been thinking of something similar myself - you might find yourself copied!
Thank you!

And, no problem - I think that any memorial (especially one for people who lived long ago) is a natural for this prompt.
That is a lovely picture - but the graves of small children are always so unbearably sad :-(
I know. The aesthetic part of me says "what an interesting visual tangle", and the human part of me just wants to weep at the loss of this child's life.
I really enjoy overgrown cemeteries, but understand the sorrow in those now forgotten too. Nature never forgets, though, so the brambles can be a tribute in and of themselves, yes?

- Erulisse (one L)
I love your interpretation of the brambles! And they form a kind of embrace, don't they? As you say, nature remembers even if we frail humans don't.
What a marvelous and moving choice for this prompt.
Thank you!
Sad and beautiful all in one.
Thank you very much, that was how I felt about it too :-)
That is a really nice photo - the detail in the front, balanced by the continued overgrowth behind. Really nice.
Thank you so much!
Hm. I see your point, but I always thought it to be different. I know from experience that neglected or untidy graves don't mean these people are forgotten - sometimes, those who remember them simply live too far away or can't come anymore, or don't need a grave to remember. On the other hand, I know a few people who care about their family's graves fastidiously, but otherwise never talk of the deceased, don't think of them, or even don't want to because they didn't like or love them; it's become just an obligation followed because otherwise people would talk.
Seeing a seemingly neglected cemetery which is slowly reclaimed by nature has its own way of remembering for me, for it is nature herself who reclaims her own, and creates new beauty out of it.
I agree with your point - I had an uncle whose grave was in a badly overgrown graveyard - he wasn't forgotten, but the place didn't have sufficient staff to cut back the persistent growth of shrubs and brambles.

That said, this said "forgotten" to me, not just because of the brambles (which are poignant in a way but, as they were later removed, don't speak of permanent neglect). It's more the age of the grave (1894), which means that this boy cannot possibly be remembered by, held in the living memory of, any person now alive. He may be included in the family's genealogy, and perhaps there are even stories about him or his parents, but that is not quite the same thing.