I love old cemeteries... I always have. The old stones with their mossy stories speak to me, telling me of loves long lost and lives well spent. It is comforting to walk among the stones and touch the lives of those from our past. Old markers tell such tales. May they be at peace now, whether their lives were blessed with that kind of tranquility or not.
Loving my days at school and these beautiful summery nights. My camera will NOT take a decent moon shot. I was out in the dewy wee hours (about 3 a.m.) trying for a full moon snapshot the other morning when my cell phone rang. It was a former student who knew I would never be asleep with the moon hanging full like that... What a hoot... and I was a hoot the next day when I couldn't think of the new kid's name... "Hi, Sweetie," I said lamely... I know he didn't think a "new" teacher should call him Sweetie... He's tall, tatooed, and not the Sweetie type... Ah, well... it worked... Hugs to all...
1 comment:
I'm right there with you with old cemeteries. It is like the tombstones tell just enough of their stories to stoke the imagination. It leaves me wanting more. Who were they? What was their story?
Love it.
Becky K.
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