I love graveyards; the older the better. Sorry, I know many people think they are depressing; death and doom come to most people’s minds. But my mind goes beyond the inscription on the stone, trying to read something into it and thereby gaining some insight into the person that once lived. Morbid? No, not to me.

One of the roads to the cabin was marked Old Cemetery Road, and for good reason. As we drove down this tiny one lane road, here was a cemetery in this out-of-the-way-spot with no church in sight. Why here, we wondered? One look at all the crooked, leaning headstones and I knew I would be coming back to this spot for a closer look round.

A dramatic pine tree presided over the graves like a benevolent protectress. No doubt about it; this tree was the focal point. Its energy radiated outwards from it.
Lie beneath me and be at peace, it seemed to say.

It was obvious that either there were not trees where there are trees today, or the trees were tiny when the people were buried in hopes that the sapling would lend some beneficial shade to their loved one. The trees have pushed aside the gravestones and seem to come right out of the graves themselves in places, as if the people were reborn into trees. I kind of like that analogy. In some cases, long after the trees have lived their lives, the stones still persist, albeit a bit skewed. Most of them were from the mid-1800s.

One seems to have taken root of its own accord.

In another case, this tree seems to have swallowed the headstone. Intriguing, no?

And, a plaque on the large protectress tree proclaims his death as such:

Some headstones needed more help from others:

Others just spoke to me for other reasons.

In the end there is life co-mingled with death as seen in this photo of a lovely blooming bush.

This sign hangs upon it. I can only hope that it means the blossoms and not the people below.

All in all, I was l left with a peaceful feeling. If this were my final resting place on this Earth, I would feel at peace.

May you all rest peacefully tonight, dear friends and fellow bloggers.

wonderful! i love graveyards too. there are some lovely ones here overlooking the ocean. i used to play in the church yard as a podlet, making up stories about all the dead peoples’ lives. i love that feeling of peace. did you lie under the tree? i would have done.

hope you’re ok lynnie
x

A girl after my own heart. Much to my DH’s dismay, I love graveyards too, the older the better. There is just so much history there in one place…history that you just can’t find in books. These people were normal, everyday people and I find myself wondering what they were like, what they did everyday, who their friends were, etc.

You have inspired me actually. There are no less than four sites all within a couple miles radius from me and all seemingly from the late 1700’s. I think maybe this weekend I’ll take a gander at some of them and see what I can find. Especially since at least three seem to be linked with the same family name or town name.

Thanks for the peaceful break!!

I love cemetaries! They’re so beautiful, and though sometimes a bit creepy, they really convey a sense of how fleeting our lives are. They help me regain the perspective I so desperately need - carpe diem, dah-ling!

One of the best dog parks on Capitol Hill is Congressional Cemetary. It’s so great to see the dogs dashing in and out of the gravestones. I would love to be buried there, someday, many years in the future, of course.

I rather like graveyards too.

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