The Shape of Things To Come

The Raven, richardault, 2008

I've never been to a funeral before and I wish I could say I'd never have to go to another.

The day began by meeting the rest of the family over at my grandmother's house before the funeral cortège arrived to take us to the cemetery. As we waited I took a seat by the window when my eyes were drawn to her chair. So jarringly unoccupied it brought to mind the shot of Tiny Tim's empty seat in The Muppet Christmas Carol - the muppets did it best. If the chair was peculiarly vacant, the room and the house were even more so. The short drive to the crematorium was quietly sombre. As a grandson I was first with the rest of the family to enter. My mind was concentrated on trying to remain composed amid the audible grief of my mother, aunt and uncle. This was not the first time for them - my grandfather died five years before I was born. Whilst the hall filled my thoughts were drifting toward understanding the situation. When the coffin itself was carried in, trying to remain detached became infinitely harder - eyes drawn front and centre, staring at it. I didn't look at the service booklet because of the picture on the back page - photographs have become too disconcerting.

I Was Running at the Speed of Life

The cemetery is the closest large public space to where I live and functions like a kind of morbid park. To avoid needlessly having to walk to the bottom of South Street, I tried using GoogleEarth to see if there was a more convenient entrance - I couldn't make out much with its current resolution. Forced outside and handed a beautiful afternoon to waste, I put the camera in my pocket and decided to explore Southward.

Another Scene Began

This is Not a Thunderstorm, Prij, 02/09/05

High-flats rise in and out of low-lying cloud. Metallic screeches emanate from the ocean terminal. The humming of distant traffic and the drizzle form the ambient noise. Another walkabout.

This afternoon, despite the mild rain, I went up to the cemetery again and had a nice time. I wandered around looking for conkers for an hour or so - gathered around 15 of the largest I could find (including four very large conkers). When I came across the first Horse-Chestnut tree a maintenance van drove by - wearing my green heavy field-jacket, I stood still amongst the headstones. The van drove right by without seeing me. So childish.