Known Only To God

Sunday proved to be the last day of the Indian Summer. Gorgeous warm sunshine and clear blue skies.

I had tasks to finish but Basil and went out afterwards to watch ELAPs in panto rehearsal in East Leake.

On our way home, and knowing that I needed a blip, we stopped in neighbouring West Leake, which is rather more up market than its eastern counterpart, but boasts neither pub nor Post Office. We entered the churchyard of St Helena's.

These gravestones line the path. No one now would be able to read any inscriptions, the slate and stone being so weathered.

Which rather makes me wonder what the point is in erecting memorials. If there is no inscription, anyone could be buried there.

Numerous seats dot the surrounding woods and walks dedicated to loved family members. It's when the wood decays that I begin to feel sorry for the loved ones. It's a poignant reminder that nothing endures.