Saturday, 22 October 2016


Back in 2005, my fascination with photographing cemeteries began.

I visited them almost constantly, to the point that after a while I never wanted to go in another again, it started to depress me if I'm honest.
You become overly aware of your own mortality when surrounded by the departed.

(all photographs taken by me)

Every now and again I feel the call to go back and take more pictures, but I now, unlike then, know when to stop!

During my fascination with photographing such places, Andy told me about an old churchyard near us, the church of which has long gone, but the gravestones remain, so he drove me there.

He did join me briefly, but I like to linger and take lots of pictures.

I worked my way from the lane that ran along side the site, up toward the back, taking in my surroundings, snapping pictures then having another long look around.

I was a little underwhelmed as I have a thing for elaborate and ostentatious Victorian grave markers, the bigger the better. Angels, yes please! Towering structures? Definitely.

So, as I neared the back, I thought, "This is it now, all done."

Then I spotted an empty bird egg. "Last one," I said to myself as I took a picture.

"Oh dear, dear, dear," said a man's voice, right in my ear.

I turned, fully expecting to see Andy stood next to me.
Andy, was not there, he was back at the car waiting for me, I could see him from where I stood.

I was alone. Absolutely, completely alone.
Alone except for the disembodied man's voice.

I wasn't scared, as I thought it was Andy initially. Even when I saw I was alone, I was more bewildered than anything else.

But do you know what? In recent years I sort of wanted to go back, to see if he was still hanging around.

So I did!
The photos above are my originals, the ones below are the new ones.
I was playing with the selective colour setting on my camera for a few of these shots.

A baby yew tree. This was planted, in, I think 2002.

This is a cypress tree.
How incredible is its story!

(This cypress was raised from seed taken from a cone on a tree overlooking the Garden of Gethsemane during a diocesan pilgrimage to the holy land by the Bishop of Chichester in March 1963)

I softened this photo as the lighting was really harsh and unflattering and I looked not unlike the somewhat psychotic relative of Wednesday Addams, especially dressed in this cardigan!

It hasn't changed much, obviously, there are a few new residents and it's very wild.

I had a hard time walking around as I have lost my wellies and only had leaky shoes on. The grass was long, the ground slightly boggy.

Lastly, this is where the church altar once sat.

And no, he wasn't around this time.
Well if he was, he didn't make himself known.