The other day it poured with rain and hail in Swanvale Halt, and water pattered gaily through the ceiling of the church vestry. I was fairly sure this was because the downpipes were blocked and so when the coast was clear (and dry) I went out to check.
In the shrubbery by the vestry wall I spotted something grey and powdery among the leaves. Cursory investigation suggested that this was almost certainly cremated remains. The quantity was, I queasily reflected, about what one would expect if it was the leftovers of a human being, as the alternatives were an Irish wolfhound or quite a lot of cats. How long had it been there? Some weeks, according to the chap who does the gardening. 'I did notice it but didn't know what it was.' So we dug a hole in the Garden of Remembrance across the path and buried as much of the pulverised bone - because this is what 'ash' actually is - as I could manage to collect.
Had somebody come into the churchyard and spread Auntie Flo around a bit it would have been more understandable, and we might not even have noticed anything untoward, but simply to deposit her in the bushes among the beer cans and bottles is something nobody else I ask has ever encountered. Was it someone who didn't know how to go about asking the church, or who wanted to avoid the fees (which we could have waived had they had trouble), or who had a family quarrel about what to do with the ashes or who couldn't face deciding? We did what I think is the 'right thing', but there is uncompleted work here which I imagine we will never manage to do.
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