I captured this image in the Merther (Cornwall, UK) graveyard, in the grounds of the dilapidated church. I was searching for the headstones of my great-great-great-great grandparents. All their descendants, along my line, died in New Zealand (other than the three generations still living!).
On arrival I felt like a kid in a sandpit again! I’d had no idea of what to expect. I didn’t even know I’d find a church and graveyard. Merther isn’t even a village, by my definition – it’s just a couple of houses, within a small area at the end of a tiny dead-end road, with an ex-school and an ex-church, and surrounded by farm land. I wonder if it ever was more than that. My g-g-g-g’s worked and lived on farms here and their children were born and grew up here.
Despite the chest-high grasses and wildflowers, we found many readable headstones in the graveyard. But no one tends those graves. The families moved on.