καιρός remembered

Of light and loss

I enjoy visiting cemeteries. Gravestones, a name and two dates, sometimes a photograph of the deceased. Sometimes there are also other expressions of loving remembrance which, in all their simplicity and – often – kitsch taste, can be moving. Gravestones remind us of the dead who rest beneath them, but they also tell us something about popular culture.

Then there are graves that have been transformed into veritable monuments, such as the one in the photograph at the cemetery of San Miniato in Florence. The marble woman catches the late afternoon sun on her cloak, which illuminates her arm and face. I imagine that the person lying beneath her, shrouded in darkness, might briefly lift an eyelid at the sudden abundance of light.

In a cemetery in Rome, I was moved by the sight of an angel mourning over a grave. She is utterly heartbroken. Her demeanour radiates deep sorrow. She must surely be the guardian angel of the deceased, whom she has protected and loved since birth, but whom she was ultimately unable to save from death.

Photo of the week: Cemetery, San Miniato, Florence, Italy, 1997