In the Jacobite Graveyard

Once more, marking the day, 39 years after my father’s death, 79 years after my parents’ wedding. Planting some crocuses by the grave in the gloaming, yards from their youthful meetings in the old parish hall in St Ninians. The hub of my own youth too. Grows more remarkable, but a wee bit fainter with each passing anniversary. More on Fb.

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