Yes, please. I suggest organizing a vigilante group in the dark of night. I am SURE that among your neighbors you will find others willing to fight this lunacy.
I read this at my desk in the early pre-dawn quiet, where there are very much zero bird-scaring shotgun blast sounds. I feel we are similar in our noise sensitivity. Noise-cancelling headphones, especially for public transport, are a wonder.
I went grape-picking for a friend at his vineyard once (well, he owned a portion of the vines) and they had one of those brid-scarers. I hated it, and I was only there for an afternoon. Live out the sledgehammer dream!
I know I use the word beautiful a lot whenever I respond, but such is your writing and what it elicits, Chloe. (And to note Mya's comment, please do keep up the audio. I haven't listened to this one yet as I'm at home and I like to listen when I'm on the move, but I will listen for the peace-inducing effect of your voice.)
I had no idea about this park. Next time I'm in London (this xmas, actually), I'll try and get across to sit for a moment and read all of these. The wording of the plaques is so immediately arresting.
"There is a toddler, idly practising screaming in a carriage further down the train." <-- my favourite line. So offhand, but so vivid.
Nathan, you know how much I love having a picture of where you are, so thank you for humouring me so. And yes, praise noise cancelling things! I’m certain that we’re just not built to be exposed to the amount of sound that we typically are, nowadays. I’m surprised, and delighted, by how supportive people have been in the comments of me destroying the bird scarer ☺️
I think it’ll be a lovely spot to visit in the winter, it’s super close to St Pauls, and a short walk to the Tate Modern. Let me know if you go! As always, thanks so much for reading, Nate.
I also struggle with a sensitivity to loud noises or really just a lot of noises coming at me. About a year ago tinnitus kicked in which ushered in a whole new level of auditory awareness. My "bird-scarer" is the testosterone-fueled cars that drag race at all hours of the day and night outside my midtown apartment. I have my own vengeful fantasies. Luckily, my ancient little dog is def and blissfully oblivious.
Oh, wow, this is very much like a sermon this morning. Those tiles...the deaths by fire and water. And the willing sacrifice. That 10 year old boy who died trying to save a younger companion...and we grieve for long ago strangers.
Another lovely piece, Chloe. And I can't imagine a better home for that photo than with you — thank you for sharing, and for treating it with such reverence.
Chloe I am so taken with the photo of the girl in the woods. Could you by any chance give me permission to write a 50-word story about it for 🍁Leaves? With full credit, of course. ( If not, no worries!) It is so evocative it practically tells itself.
"... a fantasy of going to the vineyard with a sledgehammer and beating the Bird-scarer into a small and unrecognisable pulp..." Yes. Do it. Blame ME if you like. If this were happening in my neighborhood, I would soon be in prison for homicide, a self-sacrifice on my own part to help my neighbors. Your post is so touching. I can see how moved you were by the memorial. Thanks, Chloe.
Mya, thank you so much for your very kind feedback. I’m never sure if people listen or not, so it’s lovely to know that you do. Unnecessary stimuli! Exactly that. And that lack of necessity just adds to how grating it is… May your environments be gentle 💜
Thank you, Chloe, what a beautiful phrase: "may your environments be gentle!" I can see it replacing overused greetings, as it truly encapsulates what we might wish for others 💚
While I feel for your nerves and the birds with that beastly bird scarer, Chloe, I can't help but notice the irony of escaping the noise of the countryside by taking a train into one of the largest cities in the world to sit in a former graveyard. Also, noticing the young age of many of the heroes you photographed. Very poignant.
Better the devil you know, I suppose! And while I ended up not finding a decent waterproof coat in the city, my chances of finding one in the village were slim to none 😂 Thank you for reading, Troy. So many of the tiles are dedicated to children, it’s quite something…
Chloe, this was so good! I don’t know where to begin.
The bird scarer sounds awful. So much so that I think your fantasy — “This means that, while at home, alongside a skeleton-jarring jolt of adrenaline flooding my body, I have to allow the dark and unstoppable fantasy of going to the vineyard with a sledgehammer and beating the Bird-scarer into a small and unrecognisable pulp play out in my minds eye—every thirty minutes.” —-is totally justified.
I absolutely love that you keep a random photo that FogChaser sent you in your purse — that is fantastic!
This was what I learnt about death this week thanks to you — “The park is small and raised a little above ground level, a fail safe way of knowing that it was once a burial ground.”
And your reflections on Sarah’s death and what each of those tiles represent was nothing short of amazing.
Aah, Michael, thank you! It’s actually lovely that people have been so supportive of me living out that fantasy, I’m quite touched! The photo’s been a real gift, she acts as the most wonderful Memento Mori, but it’s also quite a lovely practice to sort of honour a total stranger, especially one who died long before you were born. And yes, there are sooo many spots in London that are old burial grounds. The city basically ran out of space to bury people in the 1800’s and it caused all sorts of problems (as you might imagine!), and so they made a huge burial ground in Surrey (about 30 miles away) and thus was born the ‘London Necropolis Railway’ - a railway line exclusively for the dead and their mourners. But that’s for another post!
That is so interesting Chloe, both the idea of the photo as an example of Memento Mori and a railway line exclusively for the dead. I am so happy to have found your publication it’s always a pleasure to read and learn new stuff. :)
I also find something very moving about the artistry of these as well. Thinking about the people who carefully worded, crafted painted these memorials. And how the the stories have lasted in place for all these generations.
There was a whole drama with the tiles, too. The originals were made by an artist called William de Morgan, who was very close to William Morris (you can sort of see it in the greenish ones), but after Watts died his wife took over the project and had to try to find a cheaper way of doing it, eventually getting Royal Doulton to make some. But she hated them, and so had them either removed or moved to the lowest part of the memorial. It’s quite incredible, really, all the character involved...
So, Watts was a painter and sculptor. His oil paintings were pretty epic (check out ‘Hope’), some of them remind me of William Blake (check out ‘The All Pervading Altar’, which he painted just before he died). He wasn’t religious, but was interested in the synthesis of science and spirituality. There were only four tiles up when he died, but his wife took over the project afterwards, for as long as she could afford it (they funded the whole thing personally).
It’s actually been quite amazing to learn how many inaccuracies there are on the memorials, some small and some quite significant. But from what I’ve read only one tile was removed and replaced with the correct detailing.
Fascinating! Thank you. This kind of "synthesis" was so in the air, and Watts's directions and his wife's continuation of the venture intrigue. But the "inaccuracies" may steal the show, as you curiously observe. The narrations, as public plaquefications, take on lives, invent details, assert truths, of their own. Gorgeous. Troubling. Human.
A gem. Possibly "the" gem of your work published here.
Also: please be sure to record the pending sledgehammer incident by both sound and video and feature as the background to your next Article Voiceover.
Yes, please. I suggest organizing a vigilante group in the dark of night. I am SURE that among your neighbors you will find others willing to fight this lunacy.
Honestly, you would be amazed by the amount of people who aren’t bothered by it. It truly boggles the mind.
I’ve never heard of such a thing, nor do my ears want to! Why do we want to scare away birds?
It’s horrendous. You’d think there’d be ways to protect their grapes which don’t involve controlled explosions...🙄
Oof. That’s insane.
Adam, you’re very kind, thank you. And yes, a girl can dream! Consider David filming the act as added to the fantasy, now (👀)
Hope you’re feeling much better ❤️
I read this at my desk in the early pre-dawn quiet, where there are very much zero bird-scaring shotgun blast sounds. I feel we are similar in our noise sensitivity. Noise-cancelling headphones, especially for public transport, are a wonder.
I went grape-picking for a friend at his vineyard once (well, he owned a portion of the vines) and they had one of those brid-scarers. I hated it, and I was only there for an afternoon. Live out the sledgehammer dream!
I know I use the word beautiful a lot whenever I respond, but such is your writing and what it elicits, Chloe. (And to note Mya's comment, please do keep up the audio. I haven't listened to this one yet as I'm at home and I like to listen when I'm on the move, but I will listen for the peace-inducing effect of your voice.)
I had no idea about this park. Next time I'm in London (this xmas, actually), I'll try and get across to sit for a moment and read all of these. The wording of the plaques is so immediately arresting.
"There is a toddler, idly practising screaming in a carriage further down the train." <-- my favourite line. So offhand, but so vivid.
Nathan, you know how much I love having a picture of where you are, so thank you for humouring me so. And yes, praise noise cancelling things! I’m certain that we’re just not built to be exposed to the amount of sound that we typically are, nowadays. I’m surprised, and delighted, by how supportive people have been in the comments of me destroying the bird scarer ☺️
I think it’ll be a lovely spot to visit in the winter, it’s super close to St Pauls, and a short walk to the Tate Modern. Let me know if you go! As always, thanks so much for reading, Nate.
I will for sure. The Tate, St Pauls and the gardens sounds like a day trip that plans itself! 😊
I also struggle with a sensitivity to loud noises or really just a lot of noises coming at me. About a year ago tinnitus kicked in which ushered in a whole new level of auditory awareness. My "bird-scarer" is the testosterone-fueled cars that drag race at all hours of the day and night outside my midtown apartment. I have my own vengeful fantasies. Luckily, my ancient little dog is def and blissfully oblivious.
I’m pretty relieved to know that seemingly everyone is also living with vengeful fantasies. Bless your dog, I’m grateful they’re unaffected.
Oh man, that sounds rough with the cars. That'd annoy me a lot. I can imagine what some of those vengeful fantasies might be, haha.
Oh, wow, this is very much like a sermon this morning. Those tiles...the deaths by fire and water. And the willing sacrifice. That 10 year old boy who died trying to save a younger companion...and we grieve for long ago strangers.
Amen, Sherman. And thank you, I’d hoped this would strike that tone. I seem to find myself doing an awful lot of grieving for strangers.
What stories these plaques tell, and you have done a great service in showing us the essence of heroism and tragedy not forgotten❤️
Diane, thank you so much, I’m glad you think so. It’s pretty unfathomable, really, all the stories... ❤️
Another lovely piece, Chloe. And I can't imagine a better home for that photo than with you — thank you for sharing, and for treating it with such reverence.
Thanks a lot, Matt. And thank you so much for all the treasures.
❤️
Chloe I am so taken with the photo of the girl in the woods. Could you by any chance give me permission to write a 50-word story about it for 🍁Leaves? With full credit, of course. ( If not, no worries!) It is so evocative it practically tells itself.
Sharron, yes, of course! What a wonderful idea, I so look forward to reading it.
Thank you, Chloe. That is very kind of you. I will try to "do it proud" as my mother would have said.
"... a fantasy of going to the vineyard with a sledgehammer and beating the Bird-scarer into a small and unrecognisable pulp..." Yes. Do it. Blame ME if you like. If this were happening in my neighborhood, I would soon be in prison for homicide, a self-sacrifice on my own part to help my neighbors. Your post is so touching. I can see how moved you were by the memorial. Thanks, Chloe.
Thank you, Sharron. And I very much appreciate you being willing to take the blame for my vandalism! 💗
I love having the option of listening to you, you sound as I would have expected, beautiful.
I too suffer from the onslaught of noise and other unnecessary stimuli and I feel for you having to withstand the bird scarer every half hour...💚
Mya, thank you so much for your very kind feedback. I’m never sure if people listen or not, so it’s lovely to know that you do. Unnecessary stimuli! Exactly that. And that lack of necessity just adds to how grating it is… May your environments be gentle 💜
Thank you, Chloe, what a beautiful phrase: "may your environments be gentle!" I can see it replacing overused greetings, as it truly encapsulates what we might wish for others 💚
While I feel for your nerves and the birds with that beastly bird scarer, Chloe, I can't help but notice the irony of escaping the noise of the countryside by taking a train into one of the largest cities in the world to sit in a former graveyard. Also, noticing the young age of many of the heroes you photographed. Very poignant.
Better the devil you know, I suppose! And while I ended up not finding a decent waterproof coat in the city, my chances of finding one in the village were slim to none 😂 Thank you for reading, Troy. So many of the tiles are dedicated to children, it’s quite something…
Chloe, this was so good! I don’t know where to begin.
The bird scarer sounds awful. So much so that I think your fantasy — “This means that, while at home, alongside a skeleton-jarring jolt of adrenaline flooding my body, I have to allow the dark and unstoppable fantasy of going to the vineyard with a sledgehammer and beating the Bird-scarer into a small and unrecognisable pulp play out in my minds eye—every thirty minutes.” —-is totally justified.
I absolutely love that you keep a random photo that FogChaser sent you in your purse — that is fantastic!
This was what I learnt about death this week thanks to you — “The park is small and raised a little above ground level, a fail safe way of knowing that it was once a burial ground.”
And your reflections on Sarah’s death and what each of those tiles represent was nothing short of amazing.
A wonderful, wonderful read, Chloe.
Aah, Michael, thank you! It’s actually lovely that people have been so supportive of me living out that fantasy, I’m quite touched! The photo’s been a real gift, she acts as the most wonderful Memento Mori, but it’s also quite a lovely practice to sort of honour a total stranger, especially one who died long before you were born. And yes, there are sooo many spots in London that are old burial grounds. The city basically ran out of space to bury people in the 1800’s and it caused all sorts of problems (as you might imagine!), and so they made a huge burial ground in Surrey (about 30 miles away) and thus was born the ‘London Necropolis Railway’ - a railway line exclusively for the dead and their mourners. But that’s for another post!
Thanks so much for reading, Michael ❤️
That is so interesting Chloe, both the idea of the photo as an example of Memento Mori and a railway line exclusively for the dead. I am so happy to have found your publication it’s always a pleasure to read and learn new stuff. :)
So wonderful as always. Just when I thought I couldn’t adore you anymore than I do! 💕
Oh, LRT, you truly are the loveliest. What would I do without you? 💗
Haha you’d still be super awesome without me definitely my love 😍
Not half ❤️
💕😎💗
So great- I'm out of hyperbole to describe this...for now.
Ha! Ok, come back!
I love hearing/imagining/feeling how you experience the world. Thank you.
Kimberly, that’s such a lovely thing to say. Thank you 💗
I also find something very moving about the artistry of these as well. Thinking about the people who carefully worded, crafted painted these memorials. And how the the stories have lasted in place for all these generations.
There was a whole drama with the tiles, too. The originals were made by an artist called William de Morgan, who was very close to William Morris (you can sort of see it in the greenish ones), but after Watts died his wife took over the project and had to try to find a cheaper way of doing it, eventually getting Royal Doulton to make some. But she hated them, and so had them either removed or moved to the lowest part of the memorial. It’s quite incredible, really, all the character involved...
Oh my gosh. Thank you for this additional context, Chloe. This is fascinating.
Always heartfelt, always moving. Thanks so much dear Chloe. (I do so wish I could scare away the bird scarer!!! Sigh...)
Beth, thank you so much for reading and for being here. It's most appreciated. And I wish so, too...🤗
Such meticulousness to the memorial plaques' wording, their art. Makes me curious about Watts. May the "bird-scarer" cease!
So, Watts was a painter and sculptor. His oil paintings were pretty epic (check out ‘Hope’), some of them remind me of William Blake (check out ‘The All Pervading Altar’, which he painted just before he died). He wasn’t religious, but was interested in the synthesis of science and spirituality. There were only four tiles up when he died, but his wife took over the project afterwards, for as long as she could afford it (they funded the whole thing personally).
It’s actually been quite amazing to learn how many inaccuracies there are on the memorials, some small and some quite significant. But from what I’ve read only one tile was removed and replaced with the correct detailing.
Thank you for reading, Kenneth!
Fascinating! Thank you. This kind of "synthesis" was so in the air, and Watts's directions and his wife's continuation of the venture intrigue. But the "inaccuracies" may steal the show, as you curiously observe. The narrations, as public plaquefications, take on lives, invent details, assert truths, of their own. Gorgeous. Troubling. Human.