A STONE'S THROW AWAY. (WHILE VISITING IN CORNWALL)

 

I find myself increasingly hampered these days by a dodgy right hip that needs replacing, but it may have to go on grinding for the foreseeable future. My long cross country ramblings have been curtailed, reduced to short walks around the village, and even then it’s best if I stay on level ground. I’ve noticed that old age leaves me with a dual aspect; increasingly looking back through memories of halcyon days, when the world was my oyster and everything seemed possible, or forward to a future that still offer great excitement, but maintaining the balance between the two is not always obvious. In the center of this panorama is the all-important here and now, and of living in the moment.

  

February is not famed for its beautiful sunny days, but when they do occur I like to make the most of them. The churchyard being only just a stone’s throw away is a favourite place for me to sit quietly with my sketch pad, and if it’s too chilly, out will come that marvel of modern technology, my mobile phone. It’s been almost two years since I ventured into Tesco’s and enquired about their flat cameras. The young man looked baffled until I added that I believe they also have the ability to make phone calls and all manner of internet things.

There have been a lot of changes in the churchyard over the past two years, and with major clearing of the boundary hedges and overgrown graves it’s now possible to see just how extensive it is. We are perhaps fortunate that those boundaries became unkempt, and thus avoided the trend that began in the 70’s of uprooting headstones and placing them around edges of the graveyard for easy maintenance. We didn’t however avoid the felling of the fine beach trees within the graveyard, and one by one they were felled. The last massive trunk remains as an ugly reminder of what has been lost. The excuse given was that they had a fungal infection, but as my brother said at the time “I get athletes foot, but nobody suggests I should be cut of at the shins. Removing the tree canopy only served to allow more light in and hence more growth of wild garlic and brambles. The yew trees escaped unscathed perhaps due to some bad luck superstition of old, but there is no time like the present for planting trees that one day our grandchildren will be able to climb or sit in the shade of.

Today’s trendy environmental byword of re-wilding is more often than not used as a convenient excuse to do nothing. Land that had been traditionally managed for centuries can be treated in a less manicured way in order to increase the chances of wildlife, but to do nothing is not always the correct alternative for the harmonious existence of man and nature. The timing of grass cutting to encourage ground nesting birds is an obvious bonus, and the replanting of hedgerows may bring privacy for some along with the delight of having small birds returning to the garden. However the latter can also be dependent on the local cat population. The program of re-wilding Probus churchyard has been a process of working with nature, while maintaining the upkeep of what has always been a managed area. Clearing away brambles and ivy has led to some fascinating discoveries, while leaving other areas uncut with the reintroduction of more wild flowers has brought colour and joy. My particular interest lately has been searching for the names of those talented monumental masons who created such intricate design and often left their signature at the top edge of the gravestone. Most of these are on the slate stones dating from 1800 onwards, with on occasions some interesting spelling, like Dabb from St Austele, with an “e”. I found; W. Coad from St Enoder, Edgecombe Truro, F. Loyd or is that Floyd from Truro 1807, Isblle Truro, and Spargo of Truro dated 1871. Unfortunately I’m not here during the spring, but for me the low light during winter months is a time of contrast and ideal for sketching. The long shadows cast by gravestones and trees provide depth, and at times those shadows can even tell me what lies outside my field of vision.

Restricted to these shorter walks gives me time to look again at the familiar and more often than not to observe things that had until now remained hidden or taken for granted. The carved stones in the east wall of the church have always fascinated me as they would date from the 14^th century having almost certainly been incorporated from the earlier St George’s Chapel founded in 1384. While most of these carved stones are purely decorative others have more meaning, like that of a Catherine wheel to celebrate St Catherine. However the Arma Christi stone depicting the weapons of the Passion is perhaps one of the rarest object within the fabric of the church building. Immediately to the right of this stone is a cruciform carving which may represent the thirty pieces of silver. The impressive Hawkins tomb supported by four cavaliers provides a good vantage point to see a tiny, relatively insignificant caryatide head high on the east gable, another reuse of stone from an earlier period.

I’ve often wondered what the statues that were originally placed in the hooded alcoves of the tower must have looked like. Given the quality of the tower carving they must have been very impressive. The era of Oliver Cromwell probably put pay to them, but the tower itself remains the tallest and most ornate in Cornwall. Over the decades I’ve watched the roof of the sextants hut gradually fall into disrepair, but I am delighted that efforts are being made for its restoration. There is always something new to discover within the curtilage of the churchyard, as well as something of interest for the artists eye. I also find peace at the heart of the village, and if I can no longer roam into the surrounding countryside I’m more than happy to just sit an observe.