The Graveyard
I realized when I drove into the parking lot of my therapist's office that I'd gotten there an hour early.I do that.
I decided to walk, so I just took off at an angle and ran straight into a graveyard. A large one.
Having never spent any time in graveyards, it was an interesting experience. For one, the class divisions are very, very plain, even in death. Graves with lots of space around them. Graves jammed together like an overcrowded bus. Even a mausoleum, if your family has enough cash and wants to pay.
Also, nothing in a cemetery moves, and I mean on the surface, not below. Everything is incredibly still. I supposed it makes sense, in a way, but it was odd compared to the rest of the world.
I took a few pictures.
This was the only vase (that usually holds plastic flowers, based on what I saw) knocked over in the entire cemetery. It felt like a story.
This was a lovely, impassioned message, its slight clumsiness making it all the more poignant:
Cemeteries have a lot of damn rules:
This pinwheel (which was spinning quite rapidly) was the only thing moving in the entire place, and it stood out:
I think I understand now why some people can spend endless amounts of time walking through cemeteries. There are so many stories only partially told.
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