 |






 |
mourning_souls
pjthompson | |
 |
 |
 |
 |
|
 |
 |
Hello, everyone. I'm PJ and new here like so many others. I'm glad to find people with the same fascination that I have for cemeteries. Who knew? Anyway, I thought I'd share a small mystery I encountered in a local, urban cemetery. Back in June of 2005, I wound up at Woodlawn Cemetery up on 14th and Pico in Santa Monica, California. I hadn't been there in while, but I used to like to walk through the place. Not a huge cemetery, surrounded by urban blight on three of its four sides and a junior college on the fourth. But it's a beautiful place, lots of old and gnarled and interesting trees, and since it was established in 1847 it has a wide range of dates for the headstones. Because the sun was so bright, the sky so blue, and the trees so plentiful, I got lots of shadow and light shots. Lots of poignant stories in the headstones, too. Mysteries that are nearly a century old. I doubt anyone knows the story behind them anymore, probably not even the folks that keep the cemetery records. The next night when I was going through the pictures, I discovered another little mystery. I like to view all the pictures in super blow up, quadrant by quadrant. Partly that's because sometimes a piece of a photo will be more interesting than the entire shot; partly because I like to look for anomalies. My favorite shot was a shadow and light shot of a child's grave. And that was the beginning of the mystery: ( The small mystery. )
|
 |
 |
 |
 |
|
 |
 |



 |
mourning_souls
imagine_peace | |
 |
 |
 |
 |
|
 |
 |
Hi! I saw this community on the livejournal spotlight and I just had to join, being I have over the last few years become quite enamored of cemeteries. My name is Ashley and I'm from Pennsylvania. I used to be kind of creeped out by cemeteries as a kid; walking in them made me feel weird, like somehow the dead would reach up and grab my ankles if I walked over their graves. But a little over two years ago, my grandfather died suddenly; it was a great shock to me as well as my family. Now I find the graveyard where he is buried as a solace and somewhere that is familiar. I also enjoy the architecture there and in many other cemeteries I've been to. Something about the spirit there is comfortable to me. I feel connected to the dead, I'm more interested in them a lot of the time anyway. Before I blab on for too long, I have for you all some pictures of my grandfather's gravestone, taken a year after his death, as well as some of some other family members nearby. ( My grandpa, in New Tripoli, Pennsylvania. )I also was in England in June of '07 and one of the things I made it a point to do, even though my friend was a little leery of it, was to visit my favorite poet Sylvia Plath's grave in Heptonstall. I have two pictures of that. ( Sylvia's grave in Heptonstall, England. )Hope you enjoyed these! I've really liked perusing the community:)
|
 |
 |
 |
 |
|
 |
 |

|
 |
|