Blog Archives
drizzle/saint
A light rain fell as I wandered the cemetery; it made everything seem quiet and close and I didn’t dislike it one bit.
But I was glad that the saint and little blonde toddler Jesus had found shelter in case the rain got bad. And up there in the mountains, winter weather’s probably not to far away: they need to just stay inside until spring, probably
Abiquiu, New Mexico
photographed 9.19.2026
asleep (in jesus)
The way rain in northern New Mexico works is that it comes in hard monsoon-y showers in the summer. Between showers this day (I could hear a lot of thunder), I found puddles and reflections. Oh, and mud.
Catholic Cemetery
Abiquiu, New Mexico
photographed 9.19.2026
farming: an uphill battle
There’s a town on the flat, eastern side of New Mexico that has one building and a cemetery. What I mean is – that’s all that’s there. Other than a lot of horizon, a bunch of sky, and a crop of wind turbines.
I’m sort of digging the symbolism (which may be unintentional) of the farm implements struggle to get up the hill: agriculture life is rough and getting rougher.
Inez, New Mexico
photographed 5.31.2026
must be off
The cemetery had this sign posted at every entrance. And no matter how many times I saw it, I could not figure out what it was meaning to tell me. It seems pretty important, but I never could get it. Just to be safe, though, and because I’m a rules-follower I didn’t leave any flowers.*
Route 66
Kellyville, Oklahoma
photographed 7.24.2026
*I mean, I wasn’t there to leave flowers and in fact, didn’t have any with me.
bottom of the barrel
The first time I ever looked into a cemetery trash barrel I felt guilty, like I was intruding on something I didn’t need to know about.
And maybe I was.
But I still do look inside of them. This one that I saw the other day in Oklahoma made me sad: all that’s left of someone’s birthday wishes to their beloved, deceased person was an R and an I. That’s not much, is it?
Mountain View Cemetery
Mountain View, Oklahoma
photographed 4.25.2026
