cemetery

I had crazy butterflies from the thoughts of ghost and them communicating with us, but nothing of that sort happened. I was fascinated by the fallen tombstones that were beginning to sink into the ground & cover up with grass. First their body rotted then their casket rotted and now their tombstone is disintegrating. Most of the tombstones were not legible and all dated from at least the 1800's. I sat down at one point and tried to meditate but I felt as though I needed to stay alert and keep my guard up. Even thought it was clear that my fear came from stories I still felt spooked out. Its all the

symbolizing people from the past wanting to be remembered and the dark silence, it eliminates one of our senses and made me feel held back. Though a flashlight made it worse in my opinion because then I only had a limited range in view and became more focused on one part versus another. The people who paid for the huge outlandish chess pieces got what they wanted because we were definitely more attracted by those. Stupendefied by there grandeur. At one-point cars lights were seen ahead so we ducked behind tombstones, it was weird that what scared me the most in this place was the prospects of other human life. I was also so on edge because I knew Evan was going to try and scare us, and boy did he !!!

I had this desire to walk on the fallen tombstones and swing around the huge chess pieces, but the eerie darkness of the night retained me, for if it would have been day I am sure I would have done it. The fear of disrespecting the decease's beliefs, during the "haunting hour".

The next cemetery was the memorial location for one man; we had to take a path deep into the woods till we arrived to a clearing with the rolling roaring hills of Roxbury ahead of us. Unlike the overwhelming number of gravestones at the previous cemetery there was only one so I no longer felt bewildered but calm. It was not a typical gravestone there were four small stonewalls making a square and inside was luscious greenery. In this location I could not help thinking that we were probably the most disturbance in a while and that it was always this calm here, for eternity. This time I clung closely to Evan so that he could not once again cloak into the darkness and give me another pleasing thrill.

The cemetery visits made me feel the need for silence, I wanted nothing more but to absorb what was around me and dissolve into the experience. At the second cemetery I felt as though I penetrated into everything around me but at once felt as though I stuck out wildly. As we walked on the stone paths I could see the people who had came before us, I could see the people building this long stone path, I could see them building the walls. The first cemetery had a stonewall separating it from the road that was now ready to collapse. It made the cemetery feel so isolated, and as though it had been a labor of importance. It reminds me of the poem The Mending Wall by Robert Frost (http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/173530) I Am fascinated by the gorgeous moss that thrives upon all the stones and tombstones, to me in my fantasy they are the thriving life of those that were. I enjoyed my trips to the cemetery and was glad they were upstate.

(WATCH AMHARA'S VIEDO ITS HILARIOUS)