Now that snow has come to Central London again how I wish I was there to see it! But I’m not and instead I thought I would show how beautiful a cemetery can look when it’s covered in the white stuff. These were taken during the last big snowfall, the so called Beast from the East, in Feb 201 and feature Brompton Cemetery looking a little mysterious as the snow fell and fell and fell……
Nature has decided to burst forth now that the sun’s out and suddenly everything’s out at once. West Norwood Cemetery basked in a warm glow and its two terracotta mausoleums; the Doulton and the Tate, seemed to be glowing. I walked along the path from the entrance towards Ship Path and realised again how beautiful a cemetery can be in spring as new life appears amongst death.
I admired the groups of brightly coloured red and yellow tulips as they gracefully lifted their cups to the sun as in homage and a perennial Spring flower, garlic mustard, clustered around the base of a hedge around a memorial. I’ve seen plenty of it already this year and wondered if it was an omen of future weather.
A queen wasp flew indecisively above one group of primroses as if unable to choose which one to land on and so evaded my camera. A Queen wasp is one of the 7 signs of Spring as they awake from their winter slumber. Multi-coloured carpets of primroses were everywhere between monuments and memorials and butterflies were on the wing obeying the imperative being to mate.
Orange Tips, Holly Blues and the odd Brimstone, the first butterflies of the year, impressed me with their speed and acrobatics. One Holly Blue dived under a spreading rug of plants that covered last year’s forgotten or discarded horse chestnuts and dead leaves. There has been a lot of clearing going on in West Norwood and it was like rediscovering it again as I found memorials and monuments that I had never previously seen as they’d been hidden under ivy, brambles and other vegetation. The clearances have made it much easier to get to the back of Captain Wimble’s exuberant and magnificent tomb to admire the still crisp carving of one the ships on which he sailed. But more about him and his indomitable wife in a later posting. It is the reason that the grass path that runs past it is named, strangely enough, Ship Path.
In one clearing two drifts of wood anemones stood proud and nearby was a large patch of lesser celandine – another Spring time flower. I’ve also seen so much of it this year and again is it an omen of a hard winter to come or a hot summer….
A flash of russet behind a group of headstones caught my attention and I saw an adult fox selecting a good place in a patch of foliage as his mattress in which to have an afternoon kip. After he tucked himself in he then spotted me and got to his paws and limped off with difficulty. He appeared to have a bad problem with one of his front paws and I felt guilty for having disturbed him.
There is a part of West Norwood Cemetery which backs onto a small row of houses and so the occupants household pets, cats, come into explore. There’s often a good selection of them on a sunny afternoon; using the cemetery as an extension of their garden while checking each other out, going on the hunt or as their playground. After having disturbed the fox, I caught sight of a fluffy back and white cat on his rounds trotting along a grass path. I tried to keep a discreet distance as he passed Mrs Beeton’s modest memorial and the top of Ship Path. However, as I galumped along, he began to pick up speed. He trotted, more quickly now, across the main path in front of the catacombs and then leapt gracefully onto the wall above them. He looked back as if to say ‘Too late!’ and then vanished over it.
A grey cat near the houses was quite timid and I didn’t want to come too close and frighten him away completely. I took a couple of photos from as close as I dared and moved on.
So many dandelions this year and there was a fine spread of them in between memorials. After all the recent murky weather it was encouraging to see their bright splashes of colour.
Bluebells, at their most effective when in great drifts in woodland, were clinging together in a patch opposite the crematorium. It was just as if Mother Nature had brought everything into bloom at the same time instead of one after the other.
As I ate my lunch whilst admiring the crimson blossom on a tree nearby I could hear an old lawnmower in the distance. As I got up and came around to explore another large cleared area I saw a descendant of the Doulton family mowing the grass around the mausoleum. Terracotta always looks at its best in the sunshine and today it looked almost on fire.
A small statue of a praying child was almost being enveloped by lesser celandine and there’s been plenty of it everywhere I went this year,
I descended from the columbarium admiring the speed of butterflies as they whizzed around tantalizingly out of reach of my camera. It was then that I encountered the fox again. He lay draped over a grave like a fur stole and raised his head as I passed.
A cuckoo flower was half hidden in the long grass near another glorious display of brilliantly coloured tulips.
As I walked I thought how lucky I was in to be in this oasis with the busy world kept at bay outside its magnificent Gothic gates. I passed the Stonehenge inspired monument to John Britton which still looks as if it’s just landed from the opening scenes of 2001 and then to one of my favourite memorials in West Norwood or maybe any cemetery.
It’s a real gem and is the unashamedly Art Nouveau headstone dedicated to Amelia McKeown. Its modest size and poignant dedication have always impressed me and the primroses beneath it emphasised its deep blue colouring. This had been a chance discovery a few years ago when the main entrance had been closed for building works and visitors had had to enter via a side gate. Sometimes the road less travelled can bring the unexpected to your notice.
As I left the cemetery, feeling that I’d had almost a Spring walk in the countryside with some attractive monuments, I noticed the Unknown Mourner still grieving in a rose garden. The elderly lawnmower and the sparse cars of visitors were behind me and I was back out onto the slow moving traffic of Knights Hill and Norwood High Street again. I nearly turned round and went back in again…….
©Text and photos Carole Tyrrell