sometimes . . . #43

sometimes . . . #43

 

 

 

 

sometimes... a place just feels sacred

this graveyard is across the road from my mother's house, hidden back in the woods
it dates from the mid 1800's and with the exception of a few stones that have been replaced, part of a family plot that is clearly still being used, the stones are barely legible. they are also in a wild disarray, broken trees literally growing from the grave, but in a way that speaks much more to the passage of time than it does to any sense of abandonment.

 

                

5.16.2007