Now I believe in a post back or two I did say that I lived across the street from a cemetery as a child...I had a very close nit group of friends that I seen everyday. We lived right next to each other, my house in the middle. We all were into mysterious things and shared the same interests with the paranormal. Perhaps it was because we lived directly (and I mean directly) across the street from a very old cemetery. That special haunted marker held a sweet spot in our hearts, mine especially. I remember sitting on the corner of our block, staring into the old cemetery for hours on end, just hoping to see something move...To see an apparition, a figure, just something.
All of our houses were old, very old. Mine was an old Dutch Colonial, built right before the 1900's. It had a lot of history. It had a past that we never got a real chance to know about. You felt different when you were in our house. You knew something else was there, but you just couldn't pinpoint what or who it was.
I loved the unknown past our house held. I loved the mysterious old cemetery across the street. I love sitting there pondering where our ghosts came from and what kind of people they were before they entered a new dimension. I loved all the different headstones in the cemetery and how far back in age they went. The more I explored, the more my heart broke. There were many infants. I couldn't imagine baring a child for 9 months for it to pass away far too soon.
The photos above (and below) aren't from the cemetery I grew up across the street from. These photo's are from a different cemetery, just a few short blocks away. This cemetery is HUGE. You could get lost very easily inside there. When you are inside, you see no end. You see no exit, you just see hills, trees and old graves. It's very beautiful and special. I had gone there over the weekend with one of my very dear and close friends I grew up right next door to (from that old cemetery across the street).
I wish I could have stayed there taking photos all day long.