The Graveyard

A cold November wind swept across the vast rolling fields of the Dorset countryside. A bleak, miserable day made worse by the embittered onset of winter, wrapping everything and everyone in an icy stillness. As the wind picked up it caused the bell to ting as it gently rocked back and forth in its tower. It seemed that whatever harshness that hung in the air, whatever ferocity that had yet to come, was put on hold and offset by a stronger sense of peace. The muted sounds of soft-soled footsteps signalled the arrival of guests. There was little conversation, and acknowledgements were reduced to a small solemn nod or a raise of the hand. Frustration and formality resulted in awkward conversation and disjointed small-talk. It was quite obvious how people were feeling, so it really wasn’t worth asking.

At the far end of the grave yard, beyond the ancient crumbling moss-covered headstones, and past the collapsed monuments from hundreds of years of shifting ground, was a freshly dug plot and somebody’s new home. The soil, covered in a tarpaulin sheet to protect it from the elements, still gave off that unmistakable earthly scent.

St Dominic’s Church has stood on that site for almost four hundred years and if local folklore is to be believed, it is built on the land of an ancient Pagan burial site. The church grounds, although had been well kept by the community for many years now, was tended to by an increasingly ageing volunteer workforce that diminished year on year. In fact, many of those left only to take up residency in the yard. The plaster on the walls had become cracked and paint was peeling. Slate tiles had fallen from the rooftop and lay shattered on the floor below. But the doorway was always swept, hanging baskets carried fresh flowers and there was always a supply of craft-works to decorate the walls with.

Whilst it wasn’t as picturesque as neighbouring churches, a sad reality shown by the lack of brides-to-be banging on the door, clearly what mattered most had been taken care of by those loyal few.