Everything changes

My mother died on this day many years ago.  She asked for her ashes to be buried in my garden.  I didn't want a gravestone but did want some sort of memorial.  So I commissioned this standing stone (from Richard Kindersley - whole stone pictured a few weeks ago in extra) with the words of one of my favourite poems "Everything changes" by Cicely Herbert (after Bertold Brecht):

Everything changes. We plant
trees for those born later
but what's happened has happened
and poisons poured into the seas
cannot be drained out again.

What's happened has happened
poisons poured into the seas
cannot be drained out again. But
everything changes. We plant
trees for those born later.


My mother didn't plant many trees (MrHCB and I have planted thousands), but she was a born teacher and spent most of her life planting seeds in the minds of 7 year-olds.