A potter's field, paupers' grave or common grave is a term for a place for the burial of unknown or indigent people. My grandfather was a Chaplin for The Church of England in the British Army in World War 1. He and my grandmother were both killed. Although I was not raised in a religious family my father sent money yearly to this St. Micheal's church here in Clennell. I think he wanted the grounds to be kept up so that our ancestors were not forgotten. I would like to ship my Husquavarna lawnmower over here and spend the weekend tending to the grave sites. It is a beautiful old building and it made me feel very grounded and connected to this area. My blog is about pottery and my life in this craft but these past few days have been an indulgence in finding my tap root and how it connects to who I am. I had a couple of pints with a shepherd named Tucker last night and he has invited me back to tour the "heelands" with him and his two dogs. His dogs he calls his left and right hand. Although I could quite get the accent he told me that this side of the border a clan is called a grain or grayne hence the expression going against the grain. The family name is honoured above all else. My father and uncle both carried the name of their mother. Their names were Jon Cowie Clennell and James Cowie Clennell. This seemed to be the way long before the trend towards hyphenated names.
I feel a calling to return. I feel this sense of place in my bones. It is rather strange to try to explain.