Stone angel

I love graveyards. This stone angel is in Saddleworth Church graveyard, just outside Uppermill. It is overgrown and difficult to walk through but is abundant with wildflowers and busy with butterflies. I went there to look for a gravestone I had come across many years ago which sang the praises of a man who had been a life long vegetarian. Unfortunately I couldn't remember exactly where it was and was unable to find it on this occasion.

One of the most interesting things about old graves is seeing how fashions in names change. This angel marks the grave of a Dorcas, whilst many of the others contained Elizas: obviously a very popular name in the nineteenth century, a few Berthas and some Herberts (there surely can't be many people nowadays who would look upon their newborn baby and say 'I think I'll call him Herbert').

Some of the gravestones had poetic inscriptions and I particularly liked one written on the gravestone of Annie Hewkin who died aged 5:

She's gone, dear angel, to her rest
We miss her loving prattle now.
She's gone to dwell among the blest
and left this troubled world of woe.

The word 'prattle' made me wonder what my own boys might put on my gravestone - perhaps, 'she's ceased her endless nagging now...'