This morning we woke up bright and early and headed out by car to the famed Bonaventure Cemetery. It was kind of the Platonic ideal of a cemetery, a fantasy come true - lichen-covered tombstones and obelisks overshadowed by giant oaks draped in Spanish moss. It felt so... Nancy Drew! Romantic and mysterious and old-fashioned all at once.
It was a beautiful, peaceful morning. Not a soul in the cemetery other than us. We saw some famous peeps' graves, like the songwriter Johnny Mercer's (he wrote "Moon River," among other old standards), and took in the view over the adjacent river.
Some of the graves were quite wee... the graves of babies who had died in infancy. Sad.
1 comment:
Why are you dressed so nice? Aren't you on a road trip? :)
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