Mr. Gray (cemetery cat) must have known it was coming because I found him waiting by the front door when I got home. Perhaps he noticed the dark clouds descending upon us rapidly from the northwest, or he may have heard the rumblings of thunder in the distance. Either way, he seemed quite anxious to get inside and his instincts were right on. The rain began to come down just seconds after I took off my jacket. I listened to the sound of the raindrops hitting the windows and soaking the ground. The thunder rumbled as the sky continued to darken.
Suddenly a brisk wind began to blow. Large trees swayed while the gusts picked up dead leaves and spring's early blooms, tossing them across the landscape. The heat emanating from the wood stove felt warm and welcoming as it provided ample protection from the elements.The storm exited the area after only about five minutes. Still, the wind continued and for awhile at least, the sky remained cloudy.
I wanted to take in the darkness and the wind--the feel of the moment. So, I took a walk in the woods, as I enjoy doing on blustery days, and visited some of the abandoned burial grounds.
This is the Wilson Family Monument. It towers over several small grave markers that are placed around. There is a city park here that's named after a prominent member of this family. I believe that he was one of the community's earliest merchants.
These two grave markers lie a bit farther into the woods. The tall stone belongs to T.J. Walker. The other bears no inscription. At one time these plots were surrounded by an extensive stretch of thick wire fencing, which now lies upon the ground. The burial place of Sally, which I featured and spoke about roughly a year ago,
lies off to the right a bit.
I call this guy the Guardian to the North. He loves to ride on the wind; his black robe trailing behind him as he soars on each gust. Although he inhabits a fairly shady area, the early morning sun has, over time, compromised the darkness of his robe.
I loved your description, I felt like I was there!! And I love that type of weather as well. :-)
ReplyDeleteYou mentioned a blank headstone in the second picture. Was it always blank, or has the inscription worn away over time? It's a curious puzzle, why would someone place a headstone but put no inscription... I love puzzles!
It is a puzzle, Lucretia. There could have been another marker of some sort with a name on it at one time. Perhaps it was stolen. Then again, there has been interest in the possibility that some of those buried in these places might have been slaves. A couple of years back some university folks surveyed the surrounding areas. Their results were inconclusive however.
ReplyDeleteThe slave theory wouldn't explain a large but blank headstone, though. They would have probably used wooden crosses, if they marked them at all. That headstone looks heavy and well made; it would NOT be cheap if it was made today. Perhaps it belongs someone who was loved by their family but did something considered terrible, so it was erected by those who knew who it was for, but left blank so no one would vandalize it or dig up the body. A nice romantic, but unprovable, theory... ;-)
DeleteActually Lucretia, it's the smaller stone that is not marked. In the old days, people buried here sometimes only had a medium-sized stone placed at the top or foot of their grave. When the university surveyed these woods they placed a small orange flag at just about every stone they could find. Now that's a daunting task considering how naturally rocky the Ozark region is. But they did so because of what I explained above. That doesn't mean that they didn't use wooden crosses and truth be told, there are places in these woods where it's easy to see that a coffin and hence, the ground caved in directly in front of a marker. There are places where no marker exists but a rectangular section of ground has caved in. Who knows? Wooden crosses may have marked those spots at one time.
DeleteHmm...Collapsed and unmarked graves? I see the potential for a future blog post here.
Heheh, I WAS talking about the smaller stone. Even though it's not as large as the other one, it's still fairly big, at least compared to a lot of the ones we have here. And I'm not at all fond of the totally flat modern markers that the majority of graves here have, although I understand both the economic and practical value of them. In California, we have enough "ground turbulence" (i.e. earthquakes) that upright stones aren't especially practical, and they are also expensive. I ordered the smallest sized flat stone for Grandma with just her name and dates on it, and it cost $420! I don't want to think about how much those larger, more elaborate stones cost.
DeleteAnd glad I gave you an idea for a new cemetery post! :-)
I agree with Lucretia... your description of the storm was mesmerizing. It was like weather porn. ;)
ReplyDeleteROFLMAO!!! ;-)
DeleteYou nailed it, Little Gothic Horrors! Nightwind, you gotta start writing for the Weather Channel! LOL
DeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
DeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
DeleteHmm...Suddenly blogger isn't putting my replies where I want them. Anyway, I thank you for the compliment, Little Gothic Horrors. Weather porn indeed!
DeleteI just sent in my application to the Weather Channel, Insomniac. Wish me luck. With any luck their weather descriptions might soon be getting a bit more descriptive and even darker.
DeleteJust don't use the same brand of ouija board that OUR weather people use here! I don't think they're properly connected to the weather spirits AT ALL...
DeleteAnd here I was thinking that California weather is easy to predict.
DeleteI really enjoyed reading this Nightwind, not just for the weather porn (!) but also for the stroll through the burial grounds in the woods - fascinating stuff.
ReplyDeleteThank you, GothicFlamingo! I may get some more photos of the abandoned cemeteries and collapsed graves sometime soon. It has to be done before the ticks and chiggers get too active though. Once they get going it's best to stay out of the woods, lest one be eaten alive.
Delete