This looks a little disheveled, I know. But rust is attractive to me. Peeling paint never fails to catch my eye. I don’t really like cemeteries that much. Rather, I don’t like big enclosed cemeteries where there seems to be no way out. That is sort of a funny thing to say about a cemetery. But, I like the little old cemeteries that dot the side of the Texas back roads. On my recent trip to Austin, I stopped at one such cemetery. It caught my eye, not because it was rather desolate looking, as this photo implies. It caught my eye because certain plots, and only those plots however, were blanketed with an absolute profusion of bluebonnets. The others were graveled or dotted with grass. I like the thought that someone must have gone and scattered the bluebonnet seeds for their people, where others did not, so that for a little while each year these fondly remembered friends would have the most heavenly spot on Earth.
Then there were these other graves. They were in disrepair and the posts were rusty. One had a tackle-box lovingly placed by a grave. There were faded silk flowers cast about. The roads were just gravel ruts.
But, it was beautiful. It was overcast. It was a little trace of the people who populated the area. It was small remembrances and proud stones in a mostly forgotten spot. It was humble and blessed by bluebonnets. It was the essence of Texas back roads and everything I love about them.
(click on the photo to view a larger image)