I Love Cemetaries
True Tales From the Crypt...
As a history buff,I've always been drawn to what I might discover from those who have preceeded me.I've always roamed cemetaries from since I was a little kid.Oftentimes in New England one will discover really interesting graveyards,sometimes far off the beaten track.Some date to the 1600's,the stones covered with lichens and often aslant or even half buried,the ground level having risen in the few short centuries since interrment.A few times we made charcoal or pencil rubbings onto paper.The colonial ones were oft quite artful,nice script,usually a few angels and even skulls-those are wicked cool.
I do get to reminiscing at some of the more touching ones,infant mortality aint what it used to be,for one thing...fancy that,intrepid readers.Whenever I think I've had it rough I can always reflect on what our ancestors had to endure-now them were some hearty stock,relatively speaking...also interesting to see epidemics,whole families laid low by what calamity I can only wonder.Once again,a good way to find a wee bit o'vitamin GRATITUDE.
We would get stoned alot in high school at the old graveyard in town,it was a beautiful,peaceful spot,surrouned by tall trees and usually devoid of cops and other meddling humans,we would go to "visit Mr.B-"especially frequently,he had a really nice plot perfect for lounging and conversing,with a good trail to skeedaddle across if the heat came,which rarely happened-though we always had some excuse ready like a dear departed auntie ready if questioned about our habitual tresspassing.
Whoa,check this out,kiddies-it's a true tale...once I was alone there grooving with Mr.B-having just ingested a whopping dose of good old SHROOMS.I'm starting to get nice,queasy visual waves and I decide to wander a bit,something I've done many many times in this locale in my boring,unhip small town...I walk down a row of tombstones,flanked by straight rows of very tall pinetrees,probably a few hundred years old,jugding by thier size and majesty,when I come across a pair of stones from 178?something-jutting out of the base of this massive tree,as if they were broken teeth from a supernatural mouth-the treetrunk had grown around and enveloped the marble slabs.what???I'd been spending time here for years,since childhood,traipsing around what I'd thought to be every inch of this place...and now~THIS!Good heavens,was it ever a mortality lesson as my peak increased and the trees and stones whispered to me.very zen,actually,as I reflect.Despite the don't-piss-your-pants-because-what's-n-n-n-next factor...I got to really dwell on this image,about what it said about life and the power of nature to regenerate,to reclaim,to carry on despite our little best laid plans.I could quite vividly see(imagine?)the state of the coffin,roots enveloping the grinning skeletons,askew in their timeless dance of death,intertwined with new life,nourishing and filtering water for my dear friend Mr.pinetree,who I hugged,and most likely kissed in my moments of bliss-ninny psolicybin enhanced giddiness...wow.
I'm sure this was real,I went back and found it a few times thereafter,it always gave me a grin and I took a few good photos with fresh snow giving an even more profound dimention to what for me was a very beautiful scene.Graveyards are so peaceful,usually.You can visit this one,in Hanover New Hampshire-on the Dartmouth College campus(behind Collis center)I'll have to make it back someday.Also in that area be sure to visit Barre,Vermont-home to legendary quarries and a gorgeous graveyard.Many of the stonecutters were artisans who came from Italy,they and their families have understandably intricate designs,sculptures and bizzare out of the odinary touches that so many modern gravesites lack.Go in peace,and please don't litter,not nice to upset the dead,now is it?
As a history buff,I've always been drawn to what I might discover from those who have preceeded me.I've always roamed cemetaries from since I was a little kid.Oftentimes in New England one will discover really interesting graveyards,sometimes far off the beaten track.Some date to the 1600's,the stones covered with lichens and often aslant or even half buried,the ground level having risen in the few short centuries since interrment.A few times we made charcoal or pencil rubbings onto paper.The colonial ones were oft quite artful,nice script,usually a few angels and even skulls-those are wicked cool.
I do get to reminiscing at some of the more touching ones,infant mortality aint what it used to be,for one thing...fancy that,intrepid readers.Whenever I think I've had it rough I can always reflect on what our ancestors had to endure-now them were some hearty stock,relatively speaking...also interesting to see epidemics,whole families laid low by what calamity I can only wonder.Once again,a good way to find a wee bit o'vitamin GRATITUDE.
We would get stoned alot in high school at the old graveyard in town,it was a beautiful,peaceful spot,surrouned by tall trees and usually devoid of cops and other meddling humans,we would go to "visit Mr.B-"especially frequently,he had a really nice plot perfect for lounging and conversing,with a good trail to skeedaddle across if the heat came,which rarely happened-though we always had some excuse ready like a dear departed auntie ready if questioned about our habitual tresspassing.
Whoa,check this out,kiddies-it's a true tale...once I was alone there grooving with Mr.B-having just ingested a whopping dose of good old SHROOMS.I'm starting to get nice,queasy visual waves and I decide to wander a bit,something I've done many many times in this locale in my boring,unhip small town...I walk down a row of tombstones,flanked by straight rows of very tall pinetrees,probably a few hundred years old,jugding by thier size and majesty,when I come across a pair of stones from 178?something-jutting out of the base of this massive tree,as if they were broken teeth from a supernatural mouth-the treetrunk had grown around and enveloped the marble slabs.what???I'd been spending time here for years,since childhood,traipsing around what I'd thought to be every inch of this place...and now~THIS!Good heavens,was it ever a mortality lesson as my peak increased and the trees and stones whispered to me.very zen,actually,as I reflect.Despite the don't-piss-your-pants-because-what's-n-n-n-next factor...I got to really dwell on this image,about what it said about life and the power of nature to regenerate,to reclaim,to carry on despite our little best laid plans.I could quite vividly see(imagine?)the state of the coffin,roots enveloping the grinning skeletons,askew in their timeless dance of death,intertwined with new life,nourishing and filtering water for my dear friend Mr.pinetree,who I hugged,and most likely kissed in my moments of bliss-ninny psolicybin enhanced giddiness...wow.
I'm sure this was real,I went back and found it a few times thereafter,it always gave me a grin and I took a few good photos with fresh snow giving an even more profound dimention to what for me was a very beautiful scene.Graveyards are so peaceful,usually.You can visit this one,in Hanover New Hampshire-on the Dartmouth College campus(behind Collis center)I'll have to make it back someday.Also in that area be sure to visit Barre,Vermont-home to legendary quarries and a gorgeous graveyard.Many of the stonecutters were artisans who came from Italy,they and their families have understandably intricate designs,sculptures and bizzare out of the odinary touches that so many modern gravesites lack.Go in peace,and please don't litter,not nice to upset the dead,now is it?
51-55, M
