Bells and smells and trumpets, oh my!
Nov. 25th, 2023 03:31 pmIt's not every funeral you come away from earwormed by (Is this the way to) Amerillo. But maybe there's no such thing as "every funeral".
Yesterday we went to York for the funeral of![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
durham_rambler's cousin: she was a lovely person whom we didn't see very often: here's the piece in the local paper (much interrupted by intrusive ads).
If I had realised that family traceling up from the south would be staying the night in York before the funeral, I would have argued more strongly for our doing likewise: we'd have had time together, a more leisurely start in the morning and a more timely arrival. But then we would have missed the sight of the the low winter sun gleaming on the walls and gates of York, as we inched round the perimeter of the city (against the clock, but it was still a glorious sight).
The funeral itself was in the parish church, which was very much higher than any I've been to before: much lighting of candles, and the swinging of a censer to produce clouds of smole (it smelled of singed cloves). But there was also a brass band, because Denise had been a member of the Shepherd Group Concert Band. They payed as part of the service, in between the choir, and the organ, and the hymns (including Jerusalem). Afterwards, when the close family had gone to the crematorium, they played again: and perhaps we should have joined the family, but we weren't sure, and if we had, we wouldn't have heard the band play Beyond the Sea (below, in their more familiar habitat)>
Aterwards, at the reception, we had a 40 minute set from the band in full upbeat mode, which was both fun and strange: it impeded conversation.but it worked, in a strange, cheerful way.
Afterwards we drove home in the low bright evening light.
Yesterday we went to York for the funeral of
durham_rambler's cousin: she was a lovely person whom we didn't see very often: here's the piece in the local paper (much interrupted by intrusive ads).If I had realised that family traceling up from the south would be staying the night in York before the funeral, I would have argued more strongly for our doing likewise: we'd have had time together, a more leisurely start in the morning and a more timely arrival. But then we would have missed the sight of the the low winter sun gleaming on the walls and gates of York, as we inched round the perimeter of the city (against the clock, but it was still a glorious sight).
The funeral itself was in the parish church, which was very much higher than any I've been to before: much lighting of candles, and the swinging of a censer to produce clouds of smole (it smelled of singed cloves). But there was also a brass band, because Denise had been a member of the Shepherd Group Concert Band. They payed as part of the service, in between the choir, and the organ, and the hymns (including Jerusalem). Afterwards, when the close family had gone to the crematorium, they played again: and perhaps we should have joined the family, but we weren't sure, and if we had, we wouldn't have heard the band play Beyond the Sea (below, in their more familiar habitat)>
Aterwards, at the reception, we had a 40 minute set from the band in full upbeat mode, which was both fun and strange: it impeded conversation.but it worked, in a strange, cheerful way.
Afterwards we drove home in the low bright evening light.
