We drive, or walk, past these memorials wondering who has been lost, wondering how it happened. For a moment we are immersed in a strangers sadness. This photograph was taken in Whitby, a place, almost continually filled with tourists. Who doesn’t love going to Whitby. Not me. Never tire of it. Fresh fish stalls (a guilty pleasure only because I’m a veggie and shouldn’t really eat fish) ice cream, milkshakes (which seem the rage now wherever you go) candy floss, and the Dracula experience (cheap and cheerful and actually quite scary)
This memorial has been here for a few years, and I do wonder what happened everytime I see it. The flowers fade but the memories remain and the hopes that our loved ones are somewhere else, a better place.