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West Texas is a quite a ways from the closest ocean – about 500 miles – so it is a little bit of a mystery about these oyster shells that have been pressed into the rough concrete on these graves. I see this sort of regularly in my wanderings and always wonder about the process of it all.
These markers are in fairly good condition; most of the time all the shells are broken, by our wicked summer hail or by vandals: I do not know.
Meadow, Texas
photographed 11.7.2020
Hotel visitor contemplates her day
This town was my parents’ favorite in all of England. They talked about it a lot. The Patient Spouse and I took my dad on a last trip to England after my mom died, and of course he planned a trip around this town. And then, when the Patient Spouse and I took Miss Hannah Harvey on a trip to England, we wanted to go back and see it again.
All that aside, what do you suppose that woman in the window is thinking about. Maybe it’s “why do SO MANY Texans think they need to keep coming here?”
Bourton-on-the-Water, England
photographed 6.1.2017
Spike
One thing – OK, maybe it is the main thing – that I like about the desert is the way everything’s spiky. It’s like it doesn’t really care if you visit or not, but if you do, it’ll be on the desert’s terms and not yours. No soft grass to lie in or any of that sort of thing. I mean, even the fence sections are pointed…
Shafter, Texas
photographed 11.4.2017
Sod Roller
If I’m in a cemetery, I will always check out the groundskeeper’s shack. It’s just a thing I do. Sometimes it isn’t worth the (very small) effort, but other times, there’s a sod roller leaning against the wall.
Greenwood Cemetery
Palouse, Washington
photographed 9.3.2020
Mr. Machlied’s Cat
One of my main rules, especially when I’m photographing in a cemetery, is that I don’t touch or remove or rearrange anything.
But on September 2, 2020, I broke that rule.
When my dad was very old, living unhappily in an assisted living center, he prepared a list for me. It was titled Things I Want or Need or Both, and it included fourteen items. There were things he needed from the grocery store (“6. A box of some kind of crackers” and “7. 6 or 8 little ice cream cups”), a not-at-all subtle dig at the Affordable Care Act (“14. Do I really owe a sum of money to Covenant? Maybe this is my introduction to Obama’s ACA???”), the latest round in his ongoing battle with a nurse at the facility (“8. The return of my stolen Pill Minder”), and two things that absolutely broke my heart. The first one of these was “9. An answer to my daily morning prayer, ‘Dear God, please let this be the day you take me home.'”
And the second heart-breaking item was “4. A black and white kitten.”
And that’s why, when I saw this, I had to know whose grave was decorated with a cat.
It’s the final resting place of Lawrence Machlied (June 1, 1926 – April 17, 2003). Mr. Machlied, my dad, and black and white kittens were on my mind the rest of the day.
Dusty, Washington
photographed 9.2.2020
One Day | One Image 