For Jonny Yaxley, a peaceful meadow in Oxfordshire is not just his workplace; it's where he finds profound meaning. Crowned Britain's best gravedigger not once, but twice, Yaxley has spent the last two decades performing a final, essential service for over a thousand families, approaching each task with a deeply personal touch.
A Path to Purpose in Peaceful Meadows
Yaxley never imagined gravedigging as a career. His journey began with contract gardening work for a local council, which led him to tend cemeteries. He was eventually offered the role of digging graves, a prospect he initially found daunting. The weight of responsibility felt immense, especially after the recent loss of his own grandmother. Watching funeral services with a lump in his throat, he made a pivotal decision: "I treated every grave as though it were for a member of my own family." This philosophy transformed his view, making him feel his job truly mattered for the first time.
The Sacred Ritual of a Natural Resting Place
Now running his own business, Yaxley's primary work is for Leedam, a 40-acre natural burial ground of meadow and woodland. Here, headstones are replaced with trees, allowing the deceased to return to nature. He describes the site as profoundly peaceful and beautiful in every season. The practical work involves using machinery for the bulk of the digging due to hard ground, but Yaxley always completes the final touches by hand. He lines the bottom of each plot with season-appropriate materials, like freshly cut grass or a bed of leaves, to create a softer, more natural resting place. "I see it as putting them to bed for the last time," he reflects.
Memories Shovelled with Dignity and Humour
Over 20 years, certain services remain etched in his memory. He recalls a Star Wars fan whose coffin was led by a troupe of stormtroopers, and the heart-wrenching bravery of a mother who helped backfill the grave of her three-year-old son. "I've looked after this little boy for three years; I can't walk away now," she told him as they shovelled earth together, talking about her child. These experiences are balanced by the camaraderie of the funeral industry, evidenced at the Good Funeral Awards where he received his accolades. The atmosphere is jovial, he says, among people who care deeply but maintain a necessary sense of humour.
Yaxley firmly rejects the idea that his job is morbid. Instead, it has given him a powerful appreciation for life's fragility and beauty. Having witnessed how suddenly life can end, he makes a point of telling loved ones he cares daily and seeks adventure, from skydiving to bungee jumping. For his own final chapter, he wishes to be buried at Leedam, becoming part of the landscape he tends. "I don't want anyone to feel obliged to come and tend a concrete slab for me," he states, preferring the idea of his body fuelling the growth of a tree. In caring for the dead with such reverence, Jonny Yaxley has found a unique way to honour the living.
