I’ve always liked going to cemeteries. I visit one of the local cemeteries once or twice a year just to photograph it. I walk through picking up garbage the wind has brought in, removing twigs, uprighting flowerpots and figurines and ripping overgrown grasses. I don’t walk where I shouldn’t walk. I tread quietly. Respectfully. And every time I’ve been in this cemetery, something odd has happened.
When I would come home for the summers from University, I worked as a student for the Town. Mowing, watering, raking, painting. And maintaining the grounds in the cemeteries. I remember a few students were freaked out working in there. But I liked those days the best. I’ve seen…things. I’ve had my camera ‘malfunction’. I’ve had a my cell phone ring with no one on the other end. I’ve had the volume on a walkie-talkie turn up full blast with just static (that one was enough to make me leave). I met a husky that looked like a wolf sitting at the front gates. Waiting. But I’ve also felt things. Peace. Happiness. Calm.
Today, as I walked through the graveyard, was no exception to the oddities. I walked to the far end. To the trees. I usually don’t go down that way. As I started walking I realized I was walking really slow. It felt like I was walking through sand. My legs were like lead. At one point I actually looked down at my feet. I startled some deer that were bedded down in the trees and decided to turn back. As I did, I saw a small cross surrounded by tiny stones on a grave and decided to take one last photo. I positioned my lens, took a photo and then someone walked through me.