In the cemetery up the road, there is a bench. It’s where I sit and take a rest on my way back from the ICA. It’s nothing special just somewhere to perch for a short while and contemplate the dead. The thing is, the people who look after the cemetery move it occasionally, providing different views for the sitter.
It’s obviously not important in the grand scheme of things, but I do wonder if it’s a deliberate change of scene or, simply, a way to garden underneath it. I’d love it to be the former but fear it’s probably the latter.
That’s what I was thinking as I sat there this morning.
Normally I’m alone in the cemetery, but not today. A woman wearing a bright yellow raincoat, with a wheelie walker, was doing laps of the path. On the seat part of the walker was a small plastic pot containing tulips. Real tulips growing. They were also yellow. Beside the pot was a loaf of bread. It wasn’t yellow.
It was a bit odd.
Something else that’s odd is the fact that the mountain bike track is still under construction. The people from MTB worked through the worst weather late last year through blizzard and snow, wind and freezing temperatures only to stop. I thought they’d be finished. I thought wrong.
Presumably, they will have it finished for the summer.
