Manor Park Cemetery on a week day afternoon in March.
Impressions: Quiet, peaceful and yet full of visitors. The stone of a 17 year old next to a 91 year old. A sea of headstones, a sea of memories. People missed and lost and remembered. Many stones are ruptured – cracked, peeping clumps of grass, nettles, splits, tipped up. Nature reclaims us and the land. So many flowers, real, wild, fabric, plastic, colourful and loud.
Question: Who are you missing? Is there a type of flower that helps you remember them?
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