found it, quite by chance, on an afternoon ramble that had drawn
me off the beaten path. The early October sun was warm and lulling
and before I knew it I was lost in unfamiliar territory.
through the hedgerow, I found myself in a quaint old abandoned
cemetery. There was the scent of flowers and feel of peace about.
down on a little stone bench to collect myself, I became aware
that there was someone else here. I had heard footsteps approaching.
there. Welcome to this place." A rustling of long skirts
announced an older lady who smiled and seated herself next to
me on the bench.
you lost? Not to worry... You are just behind the hedgerow from
the road," she spoke as she gazed out above the gravestones.
"This is a lovely place to rest." She went on speaking
in an elegant story-telling voice that at once put me at ease.
is a peaceful time in this little church cemetery, but then it
is always peaceful here. The giant maples are putting on quite
a show with their crimson leaves, and the old oaks are blazing
in gold. Their leaves are like muted rainbows drifting down.
Purple Asters and the Goldenrod, with their brilliant gold and
purple, bloom in honor of those buried here. There is even bittersweet,
with its kiss of red berries, twined here and there among the
visitors don`t come here anymore, to shuffle through the leaves
and brush them from the headstones of their loved ones. I remember
times when every Sunday and sometimes through the week there would
be the tromp of many feet.
buried my beloved husband here many years ago and visited often.
I always could feel his presence here in this quiet place... His
dear grave goes unattended now, like all the many others.
the spring, flowers were everywhere you looked. There were lilacs,
perfuming the air, on most each grave, and in the summer there
were always old fashioned roses brought in water-filled Mason
jars, placed on a graves to wilt away in memory of some loved
one buried here.
miss those times and the beauty that it gave this little place.
These church yard graves are all people of the congregation of
the little stone church that used to set in front, near the road.
It has long since fallen down.
is no reminder of it, save the old chimney, still standing, and
rising there among the trees that block this place from view of
the road. Passers-by do not even realize that it is back here
behind this hedgerow.
many years now, this place has been abandoned by mourners, and
forgotten. The last burial here was a Civil War soldier, the son
of one of the church members. He had a fine service in remembrance
of his life and duty.
was very so long ago... almost ten years after I was buried..."
by her last remark, I looked quickly in her direction. The seat
beside me was empty... except for the lingering scent of flowers.