Resting in peace

There's this nice little church not too far from my house, with a shady, somewhat secluded cemetery behind it.  My walking route early yesterday morning took me past it, so I stepped through the gate and checked out the cemetery.

It is a peaceful, wooded place and quite beautiful.  Some parts of it are neatly laid out and well maintained, like this.

But other parts seem very haphazard and are overgrown and wild, like this.

In case you can't tell, that's a tombstone underneath all that wild honeysuckle.  All things considered though, if I had to choose something to cover my tombstone, I could do a lot worse than wild honeysuckle.

I took my time and just wandered among the graves, reading the tombstones and wondering about the people who are resting there, and what their lives were like.  I was surprised to see some of the graves back to the 1800s.  I studied the markers and wondered what sort of life was contained in that little dash between the dates of birth and death ... what sort of joys and pains, highs and lows, loves and losses did they experience?  Was their life filled with goodness or evil or, like most of us, a combination of the two? 

I saw one stone for a Confederate soldier.

And some that didn't even  have a name.

This was one of the oldest stones I saw.  It's crumbling and has some pretty significant cracks in it.  The date of death is 1882, and I wonder if her family lives on and if they live around here. 

The cemetery even has a swing hanging in it.  Kind of unusual, but there you go. 

Look at this one.  Ada lived only to age 33.  I wonder what took her and what her life was like.

There are some wonderful gnarly old trees that stand as sentries outside this cemetery.  This one, in particular, caught my eye and I took a picture of the base of the tree, about midway up, and straight up toward the top.

I love how it looks like smaller trees have joined forces with the bigger one, to guard and protect those resting inside the fence. 

I loved exploring this little hidden place. I think those who rest here are fortunate to have such a beautiful final resting place.  And maybe, sometime when I need to get away from noise and traffic and schedules, I'll come and visit again.  And sit in that swing.  And swing.