The Cemetery

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.

 

 

Your email is never published or shared. Required fields are marked *

*

*