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I have a confession...
I love old cemeteries.
On Sunday I found this cemetery. I've driven by it a hundred times, but never noticed it before. Probably because there were only a few scattered graves tucked way in the back--hard to spot from the road.
I find cemeteries to be serene places. The headstones, even the decayed ones, are oddly beautiful. They remind of being a child and going with my grandma to visit the graves of all the relatives who'd died decades and decades before I'd been born.
It's sad when the headstones are broken and illegible. To me it feels like that person is well and truly forgotten.
And there's always curiosity when a name is completely legible. Who was Joseph Prettyman? I don't live far from this area, and my father grew up down the road from this cemetery, but I've never heard the last name Prettyman. Did all the Prettyman's die out? Move? Where were they from? What's Jospeh's story? If I had extra time I'd look him up.
Sometimes nature leaves beautiful things in the cemetery. The picture doesn't show the scale, but this feather was about a foot long!
Do you love old cemeteries as much as I do?
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Abbie Roads writes dark, emotional novels featuring damaged characters, but always gives her hero and heroine a happy ending... After torturing them for 350 pages.
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I live in a very built up area in the suburbs that use to be all farm land. There is a very old cemetery nearby and it's fascinating. Some stones are so old that you can't read them. We can recognize families that settled the area so long ago. There is actually a brand new plan built around it with it butting up to their back yards so no scaredy-cats there!
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