Tolkien’s Grave

So, I feel a little awkward about visiting anyone’s grave, much less the grave of someone I’m not related to. It has always seemed a little pointless to me. They aren’t really there, to me at least, so what’s the point? People I care to honor I would better honor by the way I live my life. I have never seen the graves of most of my grandparents, but that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten them. I think about them all the time. I can see how people might feel differently, though. Perhaps if I’d lost someone closer to me than grandparents, a person’s grave would be a nice place to go and remember them or a place where I could grieve.

At any rate, I visited Tolkien’s grave while I was here. Just like taking pictures in church, having lunch on people’s graves, and littering cigarette butts on the sidewalk, there are some things that a person wouldn’t do in America that are perfectly acceptable to do here. It was about an hour walk on an unusually hot grave, but well worth it. I’ve been looking at some things on “sojourning” lately, which is related (to me at least) to pilgrimage, so it felt like an appropriately pilgrimage-like thing to do. I didn’t feel healed after visiting his grave, but I did feel more creative. Perhaps we shall make a saint of him yet.

Here are some pictures:

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