Stopped outside Southrepps Church on Wednesday to take shelter from a passing rain shower.
There I espied a carpet of snowdrops scattered amongst the gravestones, and recalled to mind Thomas Gray's:
'Elegy Written In A Country Churchyard.'
"...And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave/ Awaits alike th' inevitable hour:/ The paths of glory lead bit to the grave."
Then I got back on me bike and rid home.