…And a few stray cats, who were not interested in being rescued.
The orange cat gave me quite a start, because as I was driving by, I thought he was a fox.
There is an old Methodist church smack dab in the middle of the park, with a graveyard behind it. I’m not a superstitious person, so cemeteries don’t bother me. I don’t think that the living dead are going to burst out of the graves with skeletal hands to drag me down.
It’s the children’s graves that get to me the most.
This baby girl was born and died in the same year.
At the back of the graveyard, in a seemingly forgotten corner, were 56 graves marked as “Unknown”. I wonder why there were so many unknown bodies to be buried in this small cemetery? I think I may have to Google that.
Ever present, fungus looks out over a field of stones.
In a place dedicated to death, I found a sign of life:
A well-worn path, made by some animal, traced from the graveyard to a small opening in the foundation of the church.