The graveyard

Last year, I visited a really ancient church near the ruins of Bramber castle (in England).

It never ceases to amaze me how people built churches with their bare hands as a stone monument to their faith and determination.

The old grave stones stick out of the ground like crooked giant’s teeth.

There is a sense of peace and history as you walk around the church.

We meet a fox and he stops, looking at us for several minutes without moving – as if trying to communicate something.

When he moves off, we continue our walk.

I wonder why so many of us like graveyards?

Is it because they remind us to feel thankful that we are still so alive?

Or is it the sense of lives lived that we find soothing – and the reminder, perhaps,

That a life lived well and with kindness is long enough.

For more life, please visit: My World.