Sunday, August 23, 2009

Saturday in the cemetery with Ed & Bob





I have always had a fascination with cemeteries. There are so many stories here and I'm a storyteller, so I feel right at home. I often make up stories while I wander on the dry grass, on the lush lawns.



The old markers, covered in moss and lichen, are my favorite. I love the less tended spots. I don't, as people often ask, have the urge to clean them up. This is the way they are supposed to be.


Meet Phoebe Hall and Frances McDonald. Phoebe and Frances stand alone a little bit from the rest. Phoebe was older. I wonder why they are so close together and apart from the rest? Were they friends, siblings, something more? Why is Frances leaning so distinctly toward Phoebe? Is Frances a he or a she? I sense a love story with these two...

This was a most beautiful spot. But there was an odd sense of unease as I sat here. It occurred at three different points of the cemetery. Was I letting my mind play tricks on me, or do I sense, just like I do with living people, unhappiness and pain in a place like this?



I don't think this was the best photo I took, but there is something ethereal about this statue of Mary inside one of the crypts. The sun behind her, the reflection of the woods behind me, all add up to an interesting moment. You can almost see me in the shadows.

Ah, Father Sullivan. This, after all, is a Catholic cemetery. Many large and sometimes gaudy headstones show the final resting place of men of the cloth. The sisters got a very plain headstone with their nun name (is that what you call it?) on it. Not their birth name. I found that rather sad.

I couldn't help but wonder how many of the priests had trouble getting through those often mentioned gates to heaven, based on their behavior on earth. But Father Sullivan gave me a different vibe. It looks, at the base of his tombstone, like someone has paced, around and around and around. Like he is the guardian of the good souls, protecting them from whatever else gave me the unsettled feeling on more than one occasion.

The incense left with these flowers was still burning as I passed. It overpowered the smell of the flowers, but not completely. I felt peaceful and restful and calm.

This is the most beautiful cross I've ever seen. Obviously Gaelic, it has carvings of amazing creatures all over it. The bas and walls of this monument are covered with Celtic and Gaelic carvings and sayings. Many of Portland's famous Catholic families purchased stones to celebrate family. I loved it that it was in the middle of a cemetery but was celebrating the living and life.




This marker says, "Devoted mother and Queen of Everything." Her name, by the way, is Linda Love.


Every time I took a picture of this door, there was a sunspot in the upper right corner. Funny, the sun was behind me and there was nothing that could be reflected upon.




Everything in the cemetery is old, except for the cell and radio towers in the background. It makes for an odd combination of peace, solitude and a feeling of still being in the city.

I'll end with a collection of statues. I am drawn to these especially when they have not survived the weather or the hi jinx of people completely intact. Besides, I like wings.














By the way, Bob & Ed are a way of saying you have butterflies in your stomach, along with an elephant or two. Bob the Butterfly. Ed the Elephant. I haven't come up with a good name for the feeling you get when the hair on the back of your neck stands up and you feel goosebumps...yet.

13 comments:

  1. I love the pictures.

    That Gaelic cross is gorgeous.

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  2. Gorgeous cemeteries and pictures with so accurate comments. I especially like that of Phoebe and Frances... how they laen to each other!
    I love your post. It's genuine and mysterious at the same time. If you had taken night photos... well I might have had weird nightmares! :)
    Thank you!

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  3. Great photos.

    I often wonder what it must feel like to be buried alive. That's why I want to be cremated and then have my ashes thrown down the loo. As soon as you die your soul leaves your body. It's just an empty carcass. My fear is not death, but dying.

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  4. I share your fascination with cemeteries and am currently reading a book, The Cemetery Book, that I think you would very much enjoy.

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  5. Great pictures! I think you can pick up feelings from different places, and people who were or are associated with them. Remind me to tell you about James Barry.

    Joey: you made me laugh out loud!

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  6. Very nice pictures. Cemeteries are pretty neat places, and I mean that in a good way. Somehow I never feel spooked there. Not that I've been to many.

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  7. I too love cemeteries. Some give me that peaceful feeling, others... let's just say I'm quick to move on sometimes.
    Oh - and the standing up of the hair on the back of your neck? THAT is called Rosie. My 'second mother' always told us as teenagers when we were... let's just say less than ideal children, that when she died, she'd haunt us until the hairs on the back of our necks stood up,... her name was Rosemary. She wasn't joking :)

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  8. Very nice pics.

    I can readily agree that when you go into a cemetary for non-personal reasons, it is incredibly peaceful and relaxing.

    It's like you stepped into some kind of time warp and the hustle and bustle of the day simply stops at the gates out of respect for the residents contained within.

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  9. I love your stories, they are great! I also like to walk in cemeteries, there are many stories to be told and to hear.

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  10. Fantastic photos PG.
    I'm glad you find such tranquility amongst the dead.
    I just LOVE the previous pic of you as well.

    :P

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  11. Boy have I got a vacation destination for you! Try late-17th/early-18th century markers on for size.

    And a haunted house on every corner. And in between too.

    Oh, and I'm with G-Man (I usually am on topics like this)... LOVE the photo below.

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  12. Such beautiful photography! Well done!

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