Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

For as long as i can remember, i've loved cemetaries. My dad used to find this to be a bit creepy and felt it cause for concern about the state of my psyche. He asked me about it one day, and after he saw it from my perspective, he realized he needn't have worried. Cemetaries feel like peaceful, beautiful places to me. They're so quiet, and are little pockets away from the rest of the world where time seems to stand still. There are also many oppurtunities for some wonderful photos, and rubbings. The best ones are the oldest ones, where some of the headstones' markings are barely distinguishable after decades of wear, or others  lay broken and cracked. i am also drawn to the stones showing an unusual single family name; one of the best i ever found was "Dancer", that's it, just that word, that surname, carved on an unassuming grey slab. Beautiful.

i have pictures of cemetaries from all over. Here are some shots from earlier in the summer, end of June or so. They were taken in Staunton, Virginia, at a cemetary whose name escapes me right now.

i was told this spot is one of the most haunted places in Virginia.

For more pictures of this cemetary, visit  my flickr page.