No mow May - or June, or July……

I moved to my Staffordshire town more than twelve years ago. A friend lived in the next village, a trendy place, popular with local football celebrities and upwardly mobile and successful individuals. She used to say that the tradesmen added a few quid to every estimate when they heard the address.

It is lovely.
It does have an interesting and noble history.
Among the gated properties there are country homes, cherished over the years.

She enthused about the local parish church. (She didn’t attend but she enjoyed a position in the social hierarchy.)

I suddenly decided on impulse to go and see it for myself. Yes, it took me more than twelve years.

It is lovely. It has a noble history too.
But times are hard. There’s a sign in the churchyard that the average age of the participants is over 80. 
They are hoping to “restore the churchyard to its former glory”. 

The spire needs attention.
They have a notice saying that the gravestones are the responsibility of the families and they have tried to make them safe……

It’s beautiful.
It’s moving.

Along the road the village is prosperous and still bedecked with bunting and the signs of jubilee celebrations. The contrast really made me think. 

Extra : the church.