Tuesday, August 28, 2012

My favorite graveyard.

            It feels almost wrong to have a laptop out in this setting. I’m sitting here beneath a large oak, which splits in such a way that it almost appears to be two trees. It is old, with massive branches for shading me. I feel the crumples of the earth beneath me, rocks, roots, broken sticks and fallen leaves. I like them pressing into my legs as I sit; it lets me know how free and far I am from the plastic I am so confined to in a normal day. Should I even continue to work on my blog? That’s the question that was running through my head for most of the afternoon. But as I walked to the place where I now sit, my favorite spot in the town where I go to school, the words kept forming and re-forming in my head in such a way that I could not stop myself from the expression had I tried.

The words spoke through my thoughts as I walked on the newly made path. They had mulched it, packed it tight, and though the walking was easier and the way more clear, I did miss the tickling and scratching of weeds at my legs as I made a path of my own. Newly painted brown signs were up to mark the way, saying “Trail.” They probably put such things up to stop people from doing exactly what I always do—dancing amid the gravestones, following no lines of convention as I plod along, treating this massive battlefield graveyard as more of an open field than I daresay the establishment would like me to. Here’s a thing about favorite places: they often have some special meaning to us, some story or memory behind them that always draws us back…and mine does, certainly. My favorite place here is a probably 100 acres of soft , green grass. The area is fenced in by a brick wall, which is worn, and upon which green mosses grow. Many trees are in this field, of all different types and constitutions. Honestly, I think each tree of the fifty or so that are planted here is unique in its species.  Amid these trees and amid this grass are many small, grey headstones. Thousands. They are in neat rows, unlike the trees. There is a large statue in the middle of the graveyard, black iron on tan marble. I don’t know who it is, honestly, but it’s a lovely statue. The oak where I sit is at the back, far from where people dare to venture. After all, a graveyard starts to look the same after the first few stones…to some people. This is my favorite side, not only because it is far away from the general population, but also because it is continually in shade. The forest just over that lovely brick wall blocks the sun from burning my tender skin.

Why a graveyard? People are continually perplexed by my adoration of this place. First I will tell you of my stumbling upon it, and then I will explain why it is indeed the perfect place to rest one’s mind. It was freshman year at college, two years ago. I had just gotten back my first calculus exam of the semester, and I had gotten a grade that was much less than acceptable to me. I was hurt and frustrated; I thought I knew the material very well, but it was not to be so. In an effort to clear my mind, I put on a t-shirt and shorts, pulled on my sneakers, and went for a run. Some people say it clears their head. Honestly, for me, it’s just very hard to think about anything except trying to get oxygen to my cells when I’m trucking along, and thus, I am unable to think- and unable to be hard on myself. I was running along the darling houses that I love so much, with nice, small gardens and stone-work around door frames. I ran past many homes and then saw a path that looked like an entrance to a park. I thought I’d take a walk down this path and see what it held. The road that I walked down was an extension of an old battle road, where civil war soldiers marched. Along this stoned pathway were signs with photos and information. As I looked into soldiers eyes on this pictures, looked into the faces of people who hurt and grit their teeth and left what they knew for the sake of something they believed in, I saw what life is. You grow, and you feel, and you seek to make some small or large impact that is carried on beyond you. These men had lived and breathed and walked this same path with cares on their heart. They knew not of me and of the footsteps I would eventually take. They were just breathing, living, and hoping to make their impact. They had wives, children, hobbies, pets. Maybe they went dancing on weekends or collected postage stamps. Maybe they sang or played an instrument or cooked well. Either way, I saw that the past can make fools of the present. My calculus grade became nothing. It was put a particle, an insignificant piece, in the fabric of life that is continually fraying and getting new threads added. I was a woven string that if you followed its connectors long enough, you might get just back to this moment, this place, and see a man walking that same road, scared with gun in hand.

I followed the road to the end and then climbed a steep, stone set of stairs. My thighs burned with the effort of the climb, but the top of the hill revealed what could not be seen from the road below. The fields. Ah, the green acres that stretched before me, the view of sky and hills, and so much peace where once there were cannons. These men hurt and grit their teeth and left what they knew, but these men finally got to rest at the end of it all and feel no more pain. They may have a picture left, a face on an information plaque. They may just have that grey stone with initials. They may not even have that. But they had my heart, and they taught me that life goes on. It’s a huge circle. And the ashes of their bodies became the nutrients that fed these unique and unruly, beautiful trees, that now give me shade as I sit and write on a computer, of all things. And I’ll do the same for someone else someday. This graveyard is a place where death meets life, but not in such a way that it hurts. Death is remembered for the sanctity of life, and as I will one day rest to fertilize the flowers before me, maybe I too will inspire some young child with words in their heart on some strange, advanced writing device I could never conceive.

The sun burns down from the clear, blue sky. The humidity is nearly unbearable here. The prickly things of the earth press into my legs and I sit beneath the shade of my favorite oak, looking on rolling green hills framed by brick. I need wide, open spaces, and I get them here. I’ve been back at school for two days now. My life is always changing, but I hope to say it’s always moving towards something. The grass and the earth beneath my toes are soft and supple. I feel an aching sadness approaching, because while this all feels new in some ways, in too many this school routine feels the same. I liked the freedom of my summer- a whole new existence that held all the world’s possibilities. I will make what I can of this. I will use the landscapes of new knew knowledge to paint my inner thoughts. I will seek fields and flowers and animals as often as I can, walk and run and read until I feel fulfilled. I will take these good places in my heart for always and use them to fill the places where the sun doesn’t shine so bright.

It would probably be of benefit to expound on my teachers, my classes, but not now. Now I need Dickens and sunshine. I need the grass beneath my feet. Thoreau said if he didn’t walk at least 4 hours a day, it was not a good day. How pleasant it would be to dedicate so much time to merely feeling my body carry me. For now, I will read amidst the graves, feel the sun and the grass, and write more when it so presses on my heart.

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