Bishop Wilton Here

After a day in work on Monday, we travelled back to Bishop Wilton in the evening. This morning I walked up Worsendale and onto the scarp of the Wolds overlooking the village. Here we see the spire of StEdith's where M was to be laid to rest in the afternoon. We see a little road running between the brick built houses with their pantiled roofs to where M and K have lived since they came to the village over 30 years ago. In the village is the farm where Wifie grew up (now no longer a working farm), and the house where her mother Nancy lives today. There is an alternative blip of this same view by M, otherwise known as Bwhere, which also tells the tale of how I came to be a blipper.

Though he wasn't born here, M had deep connections to Bishop Wilton. The large congregation at his funeral today was testament to the many ways in which he has contributed to the community, and the deep and affectionate regard in which he was held. Father Finnemore, as he always does on these sad occasions, found the words to define M's personality and his role in the village. The most profoundly moving of his anecdotes for me though was his telling of an exchange between K and M in the hospital after a long operation on his brain. As he was surfacing from the operation, K asked him if he knew her: he replied that he knew that he trusted her.

There was a large gathering in the village hall after the funeral. Just before we left, K asked me to identify the wildflowers that were in the posey of her neighbour's young daughter. They were rosebay willowherb, the subject of my very first blip 730 days ago.