Very often, I don't talk to anybody else on my country walks and explorations but today's adventure began differently.
At Tibshelf Cemetery in eastern Derbyshire, I met the two men shown above. They are Dean and Ashley and they work for Tibshelf Parish Council. As well as maintaining the cemetery, they have several other responsibilities within the parish and often receive instructions from councillors.
Dean has worked for Tibshelf since 2002 and Ashley joined him eleven years ago. I conversed with them for twenty minutes or so . They were both proud of the fact that they had never had a single day off for illness and I was struck by the pride they clearly had in caring for Tibshelf come rain or shine.
After they had driven off in their van, I took the following picture of Nethermoor Cottages and then walked back into the cemetery grounds.
There was only one other person there - a lone man leaning over his car door and looking at a floral display that spelled out the word, "Sister". He raised his hand to me in greeting and said "Hello". He was probably my age or a little older.
Soon we were engaged in a conversation about the death of his wife. Seems like she had complained of a pain in her stomach last September. One thing led to another and she died from stomach cancer on January 11th. Her cremation took place in the first week of February.
"It must all feel so raw", I said to him.
He wanted to talk. He seemed quite lost, still not quite believing that she had gone.
"She was always knitting," he said. "And I miss the clicking of those needles when I am watching the telly. It's so quiet now."
They had been married for forty nine years - not quite making their golden wedding anniversary. He confided in me that she had not been able to bear children but they had been very happy together all the same. They had a touring caravan that they often took to the coast.
"Look after yourself," I said as I left him with his reflections. "Keep going!"
"I'm not sure I can," he replied with a slightly ominous grimace.
Soon I was in Newton, a former mining village that is just half a mile south east of Tibshelf. I spotted the street sign shown above and would love to know for sure why that street acquired such an unusual name - Wire Street. The 1888 map of the area offers no clue.
Above - Newton Methodist Church which would have once enjoyed a congregation of coal miners with their families. Below, an old cottage opposite St John the Baptist Church in Tibshelf. This would certainly have predated the age of coal.
The clicking of knitting needles reminded me of my mum. She was always knitting. It's one of those sounds that you don't even know you'll miss, until it's gone. Poor man.
ReplyDeleteMeeting people on your walks is part of the satisfaction.
ReplyDelete“And perhaps it is the greater grief, after all, to be left on earth when another is gone.”
ReplyDelete― Madeline Miller, The Song of Achilles
"It's so quiet now."
ReplyDeleteThat says it all.
"I don't know that I can" that is so very sad and I hope he gets some grief counselling somehow. I like the white painted section of the cottages and wonder why the others don't paint, it could be a semi-rainbow. Although the plain brick does also look nice.
ReplyDeleteRural and idyllic. These parts of England are still to be found if you look.
ReplyDeleteThat looks a lovely little traditional village.
ReplyDeleteAs to Wire Lane, were there any papermills in the area in the past?
I gather wire was a term used in the paper making process.
the irony of the wire that is routed around the sign on wire lane does not escape me!! There were a thing on t'news last night about the "cup of tea" guy..... did you see it? the conversations you were having very much reminded me of that - it's good to talk! Course that guy is all about viral tiktok bollocks... but you get the idea.... you know what they say..... if you're out to help people.... leave the fking camera at home!!
ReplyDeletehttps://www.thenational.scot/news/national/24970602.london-filmmaker-turns-tiktok-sensation-cups-tea-strangers/
That's a bit sad. I get the phrase 'I don't know that I can', but you do. Humans want to survive and live on....mostly.
ReplyDeletePoor man. A lovely heart felt post YP.
ReplyDeleteYou crossed "Plan a Friday photo-walk in the sunshine" from your to-do list. You live in such a beautiful area. Thank you for sharing your walks.
ReplyDeleteThank you for talking to strangers. Those random conversations can mean the world to someone.
ReplyDeleteI wish my town had staff like the two men looking after their village with pride and committment. They would never tolerate the amount of dirt and rubbish I see here all the time.
ReplyDeleteYour conversation with the grieving widower was very touching. Hopefully, the poor man can in time see that there are still good things in his life that make it worth living.
I love the picture of Dean and Ashley. I bet they are the best at what they do.
ReplyDeleteThe story of the man who lost his wife absolutely breaks my heart. And no children or grandchildren to comfort him, to mourn with him. It is hard to be a human, isn't it?
I seldom talk to people on my walks either, but there are interesting conversations to be had if and when we break out of our bubbles!
ReplyDeleteIt's lovely that you can connect with strangers on your walk. It's not something women feel very comfortable doing.
ReplyDelete