There’s a small roadside cemetery about a mile from my house that I’ve driven by a hundred times without stopping. But this afternoon seemed like the perfect time to pay the deceased a visit; I had some free time and the clouds were dramatic. It’s nothing compared to the enormous historical cemetery downtown, but it’s a little slice of local history. Meandering among the marble and granite, one can’t help but notice that the names on the headstones match many of the area street names. Here are some favorite shots of my outing.
My husband thinks it’s weird that I like cemeteries… Maybe it is a little strange, but I kind of like the sereneness of it all. I like coming up with stories based on the various headstones. Then I’ll spot a tiny stone that belongs to a child; sometimes with a little lamb perched on top. There seem to be so many of them in older cemeteries. Sometimes I wonder what made the living choose a particular design for someone’s memorial. It’s a fun little game I play. Perhaps my love for cemeteries is a little ironic considering I don’t intend to make one my “eternal resting place.” Nevertheless, I imagine the lingering spirits enjoy the company. :)
