Me & Ross aren't native Leeds folk.
I think they call those kinds of people Loiners.
You know, like Mancunian, Scouser and Brummie.
The Leeds version is Loiner.
Or so google tells me.
Anyway, I'm from Sheffield and Ross is from Cleethorpes, so when we moved here we had to somehow learn to navigate our way around.
I came to Leeds as a student.
So I did it by memorising where all my friends lived and then trying to figure out everything in between.
Because of Ross' job he learnt to navigate Leeds by churches, cemeteries and crematoria.
So today when we didn't know how to spend our Saturday, we got into the car and just drove.
With Ross driving, we naturally ended up in a graveyard.
It might seem like a very morbid way to spend a mildly sunny Saturday morning/afternoon, but I loved it.
I loved seeing all the neat, well-kept graves that had flowers planted all around them.
I loved reading all of the heart felt words that were inscribed onto the stones as eternal dedications of how their loved ones felt about them. All of the 'treasured memories', 'eternal loves' and 'beloveds' made me a little bit weepy.
I loved seeing some of the crazy old-school graves that have massive angels stood on top of them. Granted, some of the them gave me the creeps. Especially this woman in the next photo, with her freaky glazed over eyes. But most of them were beautiful.
I loved seeing all of the white graves of the brave men that had died during the war. I love that they had written on them their regiment and rank. Just that little bit of extra information made it feel so much more personal.
I loved seeing the small white graves that were in the shape of teddybears, but the thought of what they marked broke my heart. I actually shed a little tear as we walked past a man, woman and little girl tending to the grave of two twin boys that had been born asleep. My mind and heart can't comprehend such love and loss.
And finally, I loved this... "Is life a dash between two dates? I think not."
I think not.