Saturday, August 9, 2025

A quiet evening

They're selling off the old church in the village by the wee loch. It's a grand high towered affair and must have been far too large for a village of 200 souls even when church attendance was a thing. Now it's empty and a drain on shrinking finances. We wonder if someone might convert it into a house but would you want to bring up a family with gravestones running up to your front door ? If that wasn't deterrent enough keeping the acre of roof wind and waterproof would cost a small fortune. Perhaps it will be bought and turned into a music venue ?


The church yard is one of those almost cheerful places you could happily spend half a day wandering around. The inn and the village stand on one side and the loch that's home to a dozen swans shields it on the other. The remains of the medieval church provide a framework for some of the grander tombs. Here, high on the hill, earls and barons rub shoulders with ploughmen and farriers. https://www.undiscoveredscotland.co.uk/elie/kilconquharchurch/index.html


Some of the villages former residents are 'on a golf course somewhere' which is a suitably Scottish outlook on the hereafter. May they have an eternity of holes in one and entertaining company.


Others demonstrate a ' shoved over the sea dyke' sense of jocularity. A lump of Ledmore marble a reminder of a teuchters home in the far North https://britannicus-stone.co.uk/stones/ledmore

Good taste is simple and brief and made of limestone. The geese carefully carved.


In these northern parts Gaelic is the sacerdotal language rather than Latin. Duine uasal means ' Gentle man' but  English  is too uptight and unemotional a language to do the sentiment full justice. In the old tongue there can be no greater compliment. 


Then of course there's the starkly sad.


We go across the lane to the local pub for a glass of wine and a pint. https://kinneucharinn.com/ The place busy with happy holidaymakers and students working part time behind the bar. The lads that serve us have lilting George Watson's accents. We would  happily opt for a second drink but it's a twisty drive back along winding country lanes to get back home. Three chatty  ladies on horseback trot by as we're getting ready to leave. They stop for a wee blether and add wood worm to the list of problems with the old church. " There's a ton of pigeon poo in the rafters " volunteers the one on the horse at the back. This is not a village where traffic is a problem.

Near where we've parked the car a black marble monument hard enough to last ten thousand years stands by the wall. Johnina is a name neither of us has ever knowingly seen before.

So passes a quiet Friday evening in a part of the world where the weather is hinting that a change of season is on the way. When we walk into the garden at The last wee house before Denmark we scare a family of partridges who have belatedly discovered there's always grain under the bird feeders.


Car seats :https://time.com/7306364/history-car-seat-made-kids-safer/

The Earths core :https://www.sciencefocus.com/planet-earth/secret-realm-hidden-earths-core

A mystery illness lays low a choir in Boston :https://www.skeptic.com/article/mystery-illness-strikes-boston-choir-but-was-it-all-in-their-heads/

Wrinkles : https://www.sciencealert.com/scientists-finally-explain-why-your-skin-wrinkles-as-you-age



17 comments:

The Life of Riley said...

Thanks for the photos of the church and cemetery. I've noticed words on tombstones are interesting, but sometimes untrue, like "loving husband of..." when you know the couple hasn't talked civilly for over a decade! There are also some great quotes. I recently had to arrange the final wording for a family member. It was hard to know exactly what to writes, so Angus, this isn't meant to sound morbid, but with your love of words, extensive reading, and commenting on life, have you and The Font ever considered your last words (not to be shared here) to be remembered by for decades or centuries or are you leaving things to chance for someone else to decide?

Angus said...

This blog started off as a record of life with dogs. The phrase ' We had fun didn't we ? ' seems to have been a fitting epitaph for generations of Polish Lowland Sheepdogs and might ( hopefully ) hold equally true for their human companions. There again "if it be life that waits, I shall live forever unconquered. If death, I shall die at last, strong in my pride and free" is very Presbyterian and bloody minded.

paphosmuseum said...

This is one of the best blogs you've written (and you have written some excellent entries over the years). I absolutely LOVE this tale of community. It must, however, be the Presbyterian in me that looked at the Ledmore marble and thought "that inscription must have cost a bomb".

I am to spend three nights in your neck of the woods later this month. I will now definitely go and check out this graveyard.

WendyAnn said...

I was drawn immediately to the piece of Ledmore Marble. Thank you for the link. The wording was also of interest to me regarding the dates of birth for Margaret and William.
Wendy (Wales)

Yamini MacLean said...

Hari Om
I have enjoyed many an interesting day wandering various churchyards such as this and pondering on the stories lying there, hinted but untold. Thank you for sharing some of those you discovered. YAM xx

Travel said...

There are lifetimes of local history in those stones.

Fay said...

I, too, enjoyed the walk through the church yard. Close to us, I often walk the cemetery with my dog. Hallo'ween Brigerton and New Year Riley are some of the more unusual names I have discovered. Sadly, New Year died 6 weeks after his 21st birthday, on Feb. 16, 1865.

jabblog said...

Graveyards are peaceful places in which to wander and speculate.. I thank those who look after them and keep them tidy.

Anonymous said...

Thank you! Such an interesting photo essay this morning. Certainly gives one pause and causes the mind to wonder what the future holds.
JoAnn

Anonymous said...

A beautiful essay Angus. Reading Today’s Marginalian by Maria Popova struck me with the same feeling of contentment as your written musings. Walking is the daily magic that opens us. https://www.themarginalian.org/

Stephanie said...

Angus, you are a gifted storyteller and we are the privileged listeners.

William said...

Lovely article in the NYT about walking the Fife Coastal Path.


Lisa in France said...

This was indeed a memorable post. I've always enjoyed wandering through cemeteries. In Tokyo, we lived for a while across the street from the country's first municipal cemetery, built on the former estate of Lord Aoyama, which was confiscated during the Meiji Restoration. I remember searching for the tomb of Hachiko, the famous dog, who is buried alongside her master. We ourselves buried a cockatiel who had accompanied us from California under a cherry tree (and under cover of night) in the foreigner's section. Seemed fitting.

Diaday said...

So many village stories in that piece of land.

Linda's Relaxing Lair said...

Fascinating post, Angus, and beautiful photos! You are an amazing story teller. Thank you so much for sharing.

Anonymous said...

I have felt this since I found him. This is the only blog I follow

Anonymous said...

I found out more about one of the people featured on your gravestone photos. He sounds like an interesting chap. https://www.pressreader.com/uk/the-herald-1130/20120921/282333972110065