Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's shade,
Where heaves the turf in many a mouldering heap,
Each in his narrow cell for ever laid,
The rude Forefathers of the hamlet sleep.
- Thomas Gray 1716-1771 (Elegy written in a Country Churchyard)

No yew or elm, but a live oak, and paper-whites.

(Vignetting at no extra charge. Badly placed pinhole in this temporary
modification - not wanting to chop or change the camera in any way.)