A favorite spot lately is this old cemetery. It’s pretty. And peaceful. And there are a herd of deer that live there all year long.
If I don’t have anything to do for lunch and I want to get outside, I pick up something and go park my car there.
If you sit quietly for a bit some of the deer usually appear. They seem quite used to the visitors.
Me and the deer. And the dead people. Weird but it seems very soothing to my soul at this time. Sometimes I wonder if it’s morbid. Especially since I just lost my Dad. I can’t go sit by his grave. It’s too far away. But sitting in this cemetery seems to bring me peace. So I’ll just go with it and not worry whether or not I’m being weird.
The cemetery reminds me somewhat of a book I read, Her Fearful Symmetry.
Sometimes I walk around and look at the old headstones and wonder about the people. Some of them date back to pioneer days. Some are plain (only the words Papa or Mama). Some are ornate.
I have pictures of a cemetery in Charleston, SC from a business trip years ago. I guess this isn’t a new thing after all. There is just something about the big, old headstones. So much life and story behind them. So beautiful.