Sometimes you just start to go a bit stir crazy in the house in the winter so last Thursday, after a brief trip to Haverfordwest to do a bit of shopping I took a detour to St. Brides.
St. Brides is a beauful little cove on the south side of St. Brides bay about 5 miles from where I grew up. I used to spend a lot of time there when I was young and it was one of my favourite beaches.
Right on the side of the bay is this gorgeous cottage that I always wanted to live in, could you imagine spending your summers right on the beach it was every childs dream and just like something out of the Famous Five.
Right by the beach is also a lovely Church called St. Bridgets (I always wanted to get married there but didn't live in the parish unfortunately). Close to the church is a big country house, now called St. Brides Castle, it was once the seat of the Earl of Kennsington and later became a TB hospital in the 1920's. In one corner of the grave yard are these seven simple little graves of child victims of TB ranging from 18 months to 13 years, I have always found them very sad.
It isnt a very large church yard but it does have one very imposing monument, to the Earl of Kensington, it looked quite spectacular against the beautiful blue sky.
It was a freezing cold day, but it certainly blew the cobwebs away and left me feeling strangely at peace and very chilled out... odd how graves can have that effect on you.
They were both just 19 but as with most photos from that era they look a lot older. They are now 86 and still going strong, although getting slightly frailer every year, it would be lovely to think that they will make 70 years.
