When I was a kid, my parents used to drive us up to New England to see the spectacular fall colors, buy early apples, take in a covered bridge or two and, at my mother's urging, stop and read gravestones.
By age 11, I was hooked on 18th century center hall Colonial architecture and dead people.
|Here lies the body of Jonathan Pulter who departed this life |
April ye 27th 1708 in ye 40th year of his age
(doing the math for you, that means he was born in 1668).
The graves were lined up in a sort of Stonehengesque pattern, so even if headstone placement was no longer accurate, the preservation of this pre-Revolutionary cemetery was stunning.
(With thanks to my pal Betsy for getting out of the van with me so we could check on everyone. She, too, is a bit of a cemetery wonk.)
It was growing late as we walked up to the cemetery. The graves in the center literally were bathed in the setting sun. (The gates were locked by the time we got there, so I was unable to determine who the illuminati were.)
All of the pictures were taken with my phone, so the quality is poorer than usual. I suspect my DSLR would've picked up on any apparitions.
Boston is by far my new favorite city. We are moving there, if I can convince my husband.
So far, he is sold on the clam chowder. The cost of living, not so much.
Linking up this week with Mrs. Matlock and Alphabe-Thursday. Check out other Q contributors at http://jennymatlock.blogspot.com/