Snowdrops for Richard

Wandering around in the sunshine (again, today - oh joy), saw a gentlemen crouching down in the grass by Holy Trinity, so went down and he started chatting to me. He was visiting his son, who died 12 years ago, aged 30 (I think he said), and was buried there in the grass. He and his wife planted snowdrops "because he died when the snowdrops were out", and this is one of the clumps.

So sad because he doesn't go to church anymore - not exactly lost his faith, but couldn't work out why God, if he exists, would take his son before him. He talked a long time, and I mainly listened, and then went away, praying for him.