Skip to main content

Surrounded by death.

Photo by: Tim Bindner Photography

Today I was surrounded by death and I was at peace.  With inherent storms forecasted for the weekend, I seized the opportunity to use a vacation day and head out for a hike.  Today’s location is one of my favorites, but not a typical destination one would think of for a hike.  I went to a very large, and very famous cemetery.  I spent some time alone on Friday the 13th at Cave Hill Cemetery.

As I entered the main gate I drove to the end of a tree line road feeling the excitement as I would be able to explore this place in relative solitude.  I have been here many times, but I am usually with someone, like my family, who find the place interesting but do not want to stay long.  I pulled to the end of the road at the stop sign and parked.  I got out of my car, grabbed my camera and a water bottle and locked my car up.  I started my GPS and headed west toward an older section of the cemetery.  As I walked the wind was blowing quite forcefully but at higher elevations so I enjoyed the benefits of the sounds (one of my favorites by the way), without having to deal with walking into the wind.

Like the woods I often hike in the cemetery had its way of enveloping me and it did quite well.  The sounds of geese, birds, and squirrels echoed the area when it was not filled with the rustling of trees from the strong wind gusts. I moved along the road to the left and then took the first road heading downhill to the right, toward a crypt I had photographed before.  At the bottom of the hill, I could see this particular crypt off in the distance and decided to take a path through part of the field to get the best angle to shoot it.  I lined up my shot and snapped it and stood for a moment in silence to absorb the peacefulness of this place.

I moved next to the crypt on a designated path and headed uphill toward the military section.  I soon saw hundreds of white markers strategically lined up in rows and they seemed to go on and on.  I felt a sense of honor to be standing amongst these soldiers that gave their lives for our country.  I read some markers, looking at names, dates, and locations.  Sadness consumed me for a time and as I continued to move along I realized that the tears began to flow.  As peaceful as a resting place, this was these men and women mostly died in tragedy no in old age like so many other souls here.  I found a bench, sat there for a few minutes and prayed.

I moved back up the hill and into the regular part of the cemetery again.  I followed the road, occasionally seeing maintenance workers picking up limbs and doing some sweeping.  I was moving now towards the center of the property and again found myself drawn to a large crypt on top of a hill.  When I reached the top of the road I was greeted by a male goose blocking my path.  As it was their duty to protect the female who was sitting on her eggs, I decided the best way to get where I wanted to go was to cut across the field and not continue on the road.  As I was closely watched I made my way to this large mausoleum and lined up my shot.  The clouds were white and fluffy today, which only helped to enhance my shots.  The sun danced in and out of them providing me perfect lighting and shadows for shooting.

I continued on the road making a loop, back toward the hill I had just climbed, and then I noticed curled up next to a headstone was a female goose only two feet from me.  She watched me closely but never got up, never made a sound, and so I slowly walked away letting her be.  I rounded the curve and then my buddy the male saw me and standing tall headed my direction.  Not one for a fight, I turned again, cut through the field of headstones and back to the downward sloping road on the other side.  I was sure to periodically glance backward to ensure I was not followed.  I was not.

I circled back around to my car and got in.  I sat there for a moment thinking about life and death, and how we as humans lose focus on the truly important things in life.  Our days are all numbered, some more than others.  I am trying very hard to worry and stress less and focus on the things and people that truly mean the most to me.

As a planner, I have started thinking about my mortality, and wondering what place I want to rest in peace.  The Catholic tradition preaches last rites, mass, burial, etc., but I am not sure I want all that. I once heard a guy say “when I die, bury me with my butt sticking out of the ground so people will have a place to park their bike.”  I am thinking of a little different option.  One I will discuss with my wife.

I plan to come here more often than I do.  It is a peaceful place and like the woods, it provided me serenity at least for some time.  I highly suggest to anyone to take some time and visit.  It will not disappoint.

Cave Hill Cemetery has over 120,000 plots on it and the sheer size of the place is a bit daunting.  Yet due to its size, it is very well maintained and the layout is very inviting to me.  Cave Hill Cemetery is the final place of rest for many people but in this case, I truly feel they are resting in peace.

Until next time,

Tim

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Love to get your feedback on what you read!

Popular posts from this blog

Nobody's Listening

  I recently had conversations with two people I know that had experienced a sudden rash of acute anxiety. One was medication related, the other was situational. Both stated that they now had a better understanding of what I have been dealing with. With the recent changes to my medication, Although I still feel anxiety, it no longer takes control of my emotions like it did in the past. However, I know acutely that it still lurks on the fringes, patiently awaiting its chance to pounce on me. During my recent visit to Dr. Erin, she assigned me an exercise where I had to jot down three things each day that I felt I excelled at. This is proving to be difficult for me. The parameters are straightforward and easy to understand. “Anything I do well that day,” she said. As I continued with this exercise, I began thinking of a song by Linkin Par called Nobody’s Listening. I got a heart full of pain, head full of stress Handful of anger held in my chest And everything left’s a wast...
Post a Comment
Read more

Waiting for the End to Come

  I have been in a funk lately. I am adjusting to my anxiety medicine, and I feel it is working, but maybe too well. Last week I met with Dr. Erin. She, of course, asked me how I was feeling and honestly, I told her I was not really feeling anything. We dug deeper, and she explained that my anxiety prior to the medicine was like a roller coaster. I had extreme highs and extreme lows. Now with the medicine it is more of a flatter track. I am not hitting the lows; Like I was before (which is good), but also not hitting the highs either. I feel like I am purely existing. Little desire to do much of anything. It’s true my passions are hiking and photography, which I do little of in the summer because of ticks, heat, and snakes. I know fall is approaching and I hope that helps me get out of this funk somewhat. I will also speak to my psychiatrist about lowering my dosage to see if that helps. Even my writing has been affected. I have not had the desire to write. Music, however, ha...
Post a Comment
Read more

Rumination

  I've found myself stuck in a loop lately. It's like my mind is on a hamster wheel, endlessly circling the same thoughts. I can't seem to shake them. It's exhausting. I've been there. That place where thoughts loop around and around, like a broken record stuck on the same groove. It's like my mind is a haunted house, and these persistent thoughts are the ghosts haunting me. I'll be thinking about something, maybe a conversation I had earlier in the day, and then suddenly, I'm spiraling. I'm replaying every word, every gesture, analyzing every detail. It's like a broken record, playing the same tune repeatedly. It's not just conversations, either. I can ruminate about my to-do list, my relationships, or even the weather. It's as if my brain is determined to find a problem, no matter how small. Rumination, as it's called, can be a real drain. It's like trying to go against the flow of a strong current. No matter how hard I ...
Post a Comment
Read more