Perhaps you get a little squimish walking through a cemetery. I have always found it rather soothing giving pause that slows my inner clock.
For some reason, probably out of a deep reverence, my heartbeat seems to down shift.
I can hear my breathing.
I always been fascinated by the rituals we humans perform to honor the dead thus maybe validating our own existence and worth. I mean, they have found artifacts in grave sites that go back tens of thousands of years.
Yesterday I passed by this cemetery as I was on the way to a shoot. I was ahead of schedule so I stopped for a few minutes.
On a lightly used rural road out by Liberty Hill. early Sunday morning, no one around, quiet as a chapel, a chill in the air, a light drizzle, heavy overcast...the ground still wet from Saturday's heavier rains.
This particular cemetery has seen better days. It's pretty much run down, many of the sites seem like they haven't been maintained in a very long time adding to the surreal feel.
Of visual interest to me are the flowers. Most of them are artificial, made of fake silk, plastic, and who knows what. After years of rain, heat, and sometimes even ice these bouquets have bled out their original hues leaving colors with no names.
"But what is the past? Could it be, the firmness of the past is just illusion? Could the past be a kaleidoscope, a pattern of images that shift with each disturbance of a sudden breeze, a laugh, a thought? And if the shift is everywhere, how would we know?".
- Alan Lightman
- Alan Lightman
All images ©2014 Andy de Bruyn
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