Where have all the flowers gone?
I am working on a page for the Visit Norfolk website – Ten
churchyards to die for ! The final list is bound to include Horstead and
Belaugh with meadow saxifrage and oxeye daisies blowing in the wind. I know and
have worked in both of them. Perhaps you have your own favourites. I’d love to know which they are and I’ll be
happy to add them to my list!
This year while all our local churches were following
tradition and had no floral decorations during Lent, around the ruins of St.Theobald’s, Hautbois
daffodils were trumpeting new life! It was as if they couldn’t wait for Easter!
A churchyard, teeming with wild life is a paradox! It teases the mind and makes
you think!
We waited until Easter Day to fill our churches with flowers
and celebrate Jesus victory over death! This
too is a paradox, or the opposite side of the coin of the same paradox. Cut
flowers are dying! Hmnn... but there are seeds, of course!
The language of flowers and death is heard well beyond our
churches, where flowers appear spontaneously
in temporary shrines a sign of people’s solidarity with others grief. As we
begin the commemorate the centenary of the Great War, flowers stir memories and
memories flowers . In May 1915 John McCrae wrote the often quoted words:
“In Flanders fields the poppies
blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.”
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.”
And as we think about such things, some of us unredeemed
hippies find ourselves singing Where
have all the flowers gone ......
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