Last week I jumped on the number 66 bus from Sheffield city centre and traveled to Owlerton, an unpromising journey to the side of a busy road, out of town casino and dog track and Hillsborough College with cannabis smoking youth outside. Crossing the A61, I walked up Livesey Street, over a bridge across the River Don and climbed stone steps to a dirt path surrounded by trees. Unmarked on the Sheffield A to Z is a cemetery in a patch of slopping woodland. It climbs up to and is contained by a train track, and crisscrossed with well trodden paths. While a handful of people passed by as I snooped about, it is an unpeopled spot and I kept my wits about me. I experienced that odd sense of feeling alone while next to the traffic hum, police siren wail, clatter of industry and prickly pylon buzz.
Picking my way between the headstones I was in my element, woods and graves combined! I'm fascinated by the stories the headstones tell of Mary, Thomas, Clara and George and the unfortunate roll call of dead children carved into slate. While wandering graveyards I think about the current population being interred, Kyle's and Kylie's one day taking their place by Edith and Arthur - these current names, one day holding nostalgia of times past.
I found a newly dead pigeon, colours still vibrant, flies beginning to land. I found trees hugging headstones, branches wrapped as a comforting arm, a steadying hug and in some cases an overwhelming embrace. I talked to a man with a dog and he told me, 'these are war veterans these'.
Picking my way between the headstones I was in my element, woods and graves combined! I'm fascinated by the stories the headstones tell of Mary, Thomas, Clara and George and the unfortunate roll call of dead children carved into slate. While wandering graveyards I think about the current population being interred, Kyle's and Kylie's one day taking their place by Edith and Arthur - these current names, one day holding nostalgia of times past.
I found a newly dead pigeon, colours still vibrant, flies beginning to land. I found trees hugging headstones, branches wrapped as a comforting arm, a steadying hug and in some cases an overwhelming embrace. I talked to a man with a dog and he told me, 'these are war veterans these'.
