death and life
Yesterday, on my way home from work, I detoured through Graceland Cemetery. Specifically to the southeast corner where they have planted a magnificent wildflower field/pollinator garden. It is a relatively new addition. It wasn't there when I moved to New Orleans, but I noticed it last year.
Graceland is a wonder at all times. So much history, so much art in the form of the mausoleums, monuments and markers. So much beauty, so much stillness. It is beautiful any time of year. And yes, I do have a thing for old cemeteries, but I am not a morbid person, not more depressed than the next person. I just feel very comfortable in them and love rambling through them. I seek them out in my travels, too, as some of you already know.
But yesterday, flowers were on my mind. And this year the place was brimming. Probably all the rain and the fact that it's now been established for a few years. Many of the flowers were five feet or taller. There were bees and butterflies and dragonflies everywhere. And hopefully no ticks; see my last post... hahaha. It smelled wonderfully of soil and fertility and summer and pink and yellow and green. So much green.
I was completely enraptured with these beauties, so much so that I forgot to visit old friends, like the Kimball family, Potter and Beatrice Palmer, Jack Johnson, Marshall Field, Daniel Burnham, Louis Sullivan, and George Pullman.
But I'll catch them next time.
Graceland is a wonder at all times. So much history, so much art in the form of the mausoleums, monuments and markers. So much beauty, so much stillness. It is beautiful any time of year. And yes, I do have a thing for old cemeteries, but I am not a morbid person, not more depressed than the next person. I just feel very comfortable in them and love rambling through them. I seek them out in my travels, too, as some of you already know.
But yesterday, flowers were on my mind. And this year the place was brimming. Probably all the rain and the fact that it's now been established for a few years. Many of the flowers were five feet or taller. There were bees and butterflies and dragonflies everywhere. And hopefully no ticks; see my last post... hahaha. It smelled wonderfully of soil and fertility and summer and pink and yellow and green. So much green.
I was completely enraptured with these beauties, so much so that I forgot to visit old friends, like the Kimball family, Potter and Beatrice Palmer, Jack Johnson, Marshall Field, Daniel Burnham, Louis Sullivan, and George Pullman.
But I'll catch them next time.
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| © Trish Korous |
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