Blog Archives
When the rains came late
Usually by August, the grass is dead, baked dry by the heat of the summer. Once, a dozen or more years ago, the summer had been so hot and dry that the only green grass anywhere was a narrow band along the low side of the road, where the runoff from scant showers was just enough for ribbon of grass to turn green.
But in years when the rains are later than normal, the grasses linger on, and August is uncharacteristically green. This was one of those years, and this tiny cross was almost obscured by late-season grasses.
This wasn’t my first visit to this cemetery; it is one of my favorites, and has been featured here on the blog a few times. There’s the Cemetery Chair, and Why Travel the Stars, both from One Day | One Image. And, on a previous blog, you can see some star trails above an angel and a painted concrete cross.
On this visit, I found out that the rodeo arena is next to the cemetery. There was plenty going on at the arena, and the sound system was playing lots of country music. It was annoying at first – who wants to hear music at a cemetery? – but I got used to it, I guess; it just became part of the background sounds. Like birds. And trains.
Marathon, Texas
photographed 8.17.2013
The madonna in a harsh landscape
The cemetery in Saragosa, Texas, is always hot, always dry. The ground between graves is hard-packed dirt, with nothing growing to soften the edges of the markers, of memories, of loss.
A tornado struck the town in 1987, killing 30 people – including children and families taking part in a Head Start graduation ceremony at the parish hall. A loss of 30 people is bad…but at the time, the town’s population was less than 200.
It doesn’t take long in the cemetery to spot markers with a common date: May 27, 1987.
Toward the center of the cemetery, this blonde madonna guards a grave, her calm and patient face a respite from everything else.
Saragosa, Texas
photographed 11.11.2011
This, too, shall pass
It’s a shame, really, that someone’s family spent a lot of money getting a nice, big iron urn for the cemetery, and now that urn’s disintegrating – ashes to ashes and all that.
It’s just a matter of time now, until the whole thing gives way. I wonder if anyone cares….
Oak Grove Cemetery
Manchester, Michigan
photographed 4.19.2013
The cemetery
The historical marker at this cemetery says, “The history of this community cemetery dates to 1854 when 18-year-old Rebecca Chambers died and was buried here. Rebecca, who reportedly was ill while traveling past here with the family of her sister and brother-in-law, Nancy and E. G. Evans, asked to be buried on this flower-covered hillside. While the land was vacant public domain several other burials took place. There are about 65 early graves marked only by rocks.”
Something about a girl telling her family where she wanted to be buried haunted me the day I read the sign, and still sticks with me, and makes me want to post a dark and moody shot. Even though Rebecca Chambers saw it when the hill was covered in flowers.
Smithwick Cemetery
Burnet County, Texas
photographed 3.9.2013
The cemetery chair
I’ve been to this cemetery a few times, and always find something interesting like star trails just before moonrise, or a cemetery angel, or concrete cross.
But my favorite thing I’ve seen there is this chair, backed up against a stone tower and angled to get a view of a rocky gravesite.
Marathon, Texas
photographed 9.6.2009
One Day | One Image 