At a turn in the road is a Lychgate that I haven't been through before. It turns out to be for Wilstone cemetery, but it is some way from Wilstone. Indeed it is some way from anywhere.
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Inside, we look back out:
All is calm and peaceful. And I feel a surge of feeling for England, the land.
There's even a Proctor. There's nothing particularly old, though. Presumably this is the overflow cemetery.
And then on to Ivinghoe Beacon. How tall it used to be, when I was young.
Ah, time.
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