On sunday I went to my local cemetery to gather ivy berries for dyeing with. The morning had been bright and clear but by mid afternoon the light had started to close in and it was a little creepy. In the older part there were many new or newly marked graves which made death a presence more keenly felt than was comfortable.
However there were flowers, aconites, snowdrops and crocus. And this pretty garland hung about a tree by a grave for an old lady called Blyth.