I had a chance to watch a documentary on PBS this week entitled "Silent Storytellers." Silent Storytellers explores the history, culture, and importance of preserving Arkansas cemeteries. As I watched the program my head was nodding and I was feeling less an odd ball. You see, I enjoy wandering around cemeteries with my camera. There I've said it out loud. I've received comments suggesting that I'm weird, I'm disrespectful, and that being in a cemetery where I "knew" no one seemed intrusive. After watching the documentary I decided to explain my fascination with cemeteries.
Recently I visited the Pleasant Grove Cemetery which was established in 1878. Some of the oldest stones are faded, with names and dates difficult to read; more than a few have toppled, not from vandalism but from decay and from tree roots pushing up over the decades. I was anxious to walk around, but instead of grabbing my camera, I sat on one of the benches, relaxed, and just did a little thinking. Why do I like to be in a cemetery? What draws my attention? Why do I like to take pictures here? Then, I pulled out my journal and wrote.
Cemeteries can be sad places. Hearts have been broken, loved ones lost, and tears have been shed. So why am I drawn to them? As I look around me I see many reasons that cause me to keep returning to cemeteries.
(The arched monument symbolizes the pathway to heaven.)
There is peace here...a quiet, reverent peace...a place of contemplation. I rarely see another person in the older cemeteries. I rarely hear more than the sounds of nature...a very persistent woodpecker, a few others birds, a dog barking, and the wind rustling the leaves.
I'm amazed at the beautiful works of art I see...angels, lambs, vases.
(Child-like angels and lambs represent the death of a child. The top right monument has the symbols of the Freemasons and The Woodmen of The World. The urn, bottom right, represents the soul.)
Sometimes the art is handmade. I can see a special cross filled with rocks and pieces of glass. I can see a family plot with a small cement wall around it and every few feet there is a beautiful crystal rock embedded in the cement.
I read recently that walking into a cemetery gives the sense that you're walking into an area filled with stories. It's like the cemetery is a book and the grave markers are the pages. History abounds in the recording of names and dates. I try to picture the people behind the names and imagine the lives they led. The inscriptions are fascinating to read. I'll never forget the line I read on one marker.
mother of 84 grand
and great grandchildren.
She must have had several children who had several children who had several children! Some of the markers are imprinted and some have the name and date painstakingly hand-carved into rock or granite.
(Ivy on the marker symbolizes friendship.)
Of course, any where I am I look for nature's beauty to photograph. Nature touches cemeteries with it's trees, moss, and lichen.
My heart goes through a myriad of emotions
as I walk through a cemetery
sadness
surprise
discovery
amazement
and even a smile or too.
Always, I come away with thankfulness...
thankful for each moment
each day
each year
I've been blessed with.