1. regarded as holy, venerated, sacred: hallowed ground
The earth is sacred to me. All land that I walk upon is holy. And yet, there is a distinct difference in the land that we have set aside to intern and remember our dead. You feel it the moment you cross the threshold. There lives a delicate silence…a lingering presence of longing. These are the liminal spaces where past meets present…where death joins life.
Old graveyards and cemeteries hold mysteries. They are riddled with pieces of forgotten stories. Memories echo off the stones and the trees whisper clues…
The headstones of the poor, hand carved rocks or wooden crosses long since decayed, sit in quiet contrast to those who had wealth. It is to these that I gravitate.
Who carved this stone for Richard Mcgee in the Appalachian Mts of North Carolina (off Stackhouse Rd. in Marshall)? What tool did they use? Was it carved out of love or duty? How was his life, in the 1800’s on the French Broad River which runs near his final resting place? Was he a child? A father? A lover?
My daughter’s friend led us to this small, hidden mountain cemetery. Her people are from this area and her grand daddy was buried there.
Many stones in this pre-Revolutionary war graveyard in New Jersey were hand carved. I discovered this graveyard while geocaching on a trip to New York. Geocaching has led me to many old burial grounds.
Old stones and beautiful foliage make me weak at the knees. The surreal beauty of these places sink deep into my bones. My soul is touched.
This may be written in German. I found this pioneer cemetery while driving around the small town of Ripley on the Ohio River.
May fortune shine down upon you…. (some where near Hendersonville, NC)…
…and then there are true southern graveyards… deep, gothic beauty…
…with tales of the supernatural…
This mausoleum on Edisto Island, SC ( in the back of the picture) is said to be haunted by a young girl who was interned alive. The story is a bit disturbing so I will let you look it up if you are interested. It is said that any door they put on the structure, will be opened the next morning. No chain nor lock will keep it shut.
…with wrought iron splendor….
Historical burial ground hunting is one of my hobbies. From ancient native American sites to hidden, slave cemeteries. From time to time, I will pay homage to the forgotten and capture a bit of their story here at Hestia’s Hearth.