Tag Archives: cemetery

Cemetery, near Sellafield

Wednesday 5th September 2018, 12.50pm (day 2,568)

Churchyard, Sellafield, 5/9/18

I am posting this and tomorrow’s pic while lying in bed on Friday morning recovering from a two-day hike. Between 11.15am on Wednesday morning and 3.30pm on Thursday I walked 30 miles, which I calculate as an average of around 1.05 miles/hour even while I was asleep. No wonder I feel a little delicate this morning.

Anyway, looking back — it’s never easy to choose only one photo to encapsulate a day of varied landscapes and experience, but being very close to the delights of Sellafield nuclear power station (or ‘reprocessing plant’, or whatever it is these days) was certainly a significant feature of day 1. i was hard up against the perimeter fence at one point. It hisses, throbs, puts out strange noises and generally dominates everything round here in West Cumbria. So it can feature today, albeit in the background of this shot of the churchyard where I sat and had my lunch.

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A veil of cobwebs

Wednesday 20th June 2018, 12.25pm (day 2,491)

Cobwebbed statue, 20/6/18

This statue in St. George’s Fields wears her cobwebs before her like a veil. This park used to be a cemetery: London does give good cemetery, amongst other things (see Highgate). It’s one of my favourite little spots in London but not as tranquil as it could be at the moment thanks to building works, which proliferate, increasingly, everywhere. Maybe that’s why she wears the veil.

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Grave #42 (Douglas Adams)

Sunday 24th September 2017, 11.00am (day 2,222)

Highgate cemetery, 24/9/17

2,222 days is a good number. Here’s a shot featuring another good number, one I invoked right back on day one of this blog. As I’ve never changed the (domain) name, ‘Being 42’ this blog remains, despite its title being six years out of date. And to mark day 2,222 here’s the gravestone memorial to the man who publicised the notion that 42 is the answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe and Everything, the author Douglas Adams (died aged 49…), in Highgate cemetery. A very fine spot that I had not visited before; bringing to an end a fine 24 hours in London.

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Cemetery chicken

Tuesday 18th April 2017, 1.50pm (day 2,063)

Cemetery chicken, 18/4/17

Visited Haworth today, mainly to get out of the house on this week off work. Haworth gives good cemetery; it also appears to have a flock of (apparently) feral chickens which occupy the same evolutionary niche as pigeons do in other similar places. So, a chicken in a cemetery then. Why not? It pleases the tourists.

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Churchyard, Middleham

Thursday 2nd June 2016, 4.45pm (day 1,743)

Middleham churchyard, 2/6/16

Middleham, North Yorkshire, is famous for two things: firstly being the former estate of King Richard III (‘my horse, my horse, my kingdom for a horse’ etc), secondly being the north of England’s premier racehorse training centre. Which facts mean it’s very medievally pretty and it basically smells of manure. Liked the churchyard though. It’s been a while since this blog did some good cemetery.

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Necropolis

Thursday 20th August 2015, 3.55pm (day 1,456)

Necropolis, 20/8/15

So I find myself in Glasgow for a couple of days, meaning the four biggest cities in Scotland (Glasgow, Edinburgh, Aberdeen and Dundee) have all made it onto the blog in less than four months. I don’t know the place well but at least this afternoon proved that it does give good cemetery.

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Heptonstall churchyard

Saturday 29th March 2014, 3.05pm (day 947)

Heptonstall churchyard, 29/3/14

Heptonstall is the oldest part of Hebden Bridge, built several hundred feet above where the main town now stands. Its cemetery is home to the town’s most well-known deceased resident, Sylvia Plath. This part of the churchyard, located between the 19th century church seen here and its ruined, 15th century predecessor,  is a Gothic playground of tombs that is always good for a photo.

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Cragg Vale churchyard

Monday 7th May 2012, 11.45am (day 256)

Cragg Vale churchyard, 7/5/12

a.k.a. ‘Lament for a Lost Spring’… Sorry to wax lyrical, it’s probably just the result of spending the day in a church selling piles of 2nd hand books to bargain-hungry pensioners.

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