I've always spent time in cemeteries. As a child I'd practice math by figuring out the age of the deceased while wandering through the rows. As I grew older it was the history, the beauty of those places, the artistry and symbolism of the stones that appealed to me. Now, it's the quiet, and an appreciation of natures ability to wear down those strong edges, the lichen blurring the facts of death.
There is a small cemetery very close to my house. The Bullis', the people who built our house, now reside there.
All of my visits have been during the day... until last week.
I was running late and it was nearing dusk, but I wanted to get in a quick walk with the dog. Walking up the entry lane way to the cemetery I saw a single light shifting colour near one of the gravestones. I thought it was a bit weird but as I made my way deeper into the yard more and more lights revealed themselves.
Stringed lights, colour changing lights, lights shaped like humming birds, white lights, red lights, green lights... you name it! All over this tiny little cemetery lights glowed beside the headstones.
It was like a celebration!
And I've been back there, soaking up that magic... bringing extra lights for those graves still dimmed.
