#random description time!

[frithfusee]

Place of Rest

Not far from my house, there lies a small, awkwardly placed plot of land set aside as a local graveyard. We have never stopped there and all my information comes from quick glimpses out the car window; but I have had enough of those glimpses to get a good idea of what it is like.

The yard is serene and beautiful, not at all like the stereotype seem to suggest. Sometimes the sun comes to play among its ancient trees and scattered flowers, and causes them to almost glow. A carpet of yellow-green grass creeps about, seeking to overtake but always held back by the power of weed whackers and trimmers.  

The graves themselves are old, so very old, often to the point of being unreadable. Most have withstood the test of time but a few bear clear traces of their trials. Some have split, becoming not one stone but many; others are simply cracked and damaged, the tendrils of age spreading across their surfaces. Many are encumbered with vast colonies of lichen, disfiguring names and obscuring details.

These monuments to human life range from grand memorials to mere bricks in the earth; some inscribed with epitaphs of love, others not marked at all. The largest and most prominent bears the name “Sophronia” and “Mother”, the only one readable from the road.