Weathering away

say my name out loud before wind and rainfall come and wash me away

Read More

From the hilltop

Looking down from atop the knoll, plain white markers, degraded by weather and time, spread out uniformly like a well-practiced parade regiment. From where I stand, the speckled fields stretch toward the horizon. Each generation, each year, each day, each hour the sward fills with more and more dead. No flowers are left by the grave […]

Read More

So, it begins

The plain, wooden cross, skillfully constructed from weathered, white-washed fence slats, appeared overnight in St. Anthony Gardens at the neglected burial site of a nameless decedent. Great care had been given to crafting a traditional grave marker, one that was reverent and not pretentious as were so many of the monolithic tributes in the cemetery. […]

Read More


pet grave marker

Good and faithful friend Life lived well, love embodied Unconditional Photo: Grave marker at St. Francis Assisi pet cemetery, Santa Rosa Beach, FL

Read More

Cookies and sammiches

angel grave statue

It was always a plate of fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies, none of that pasty store-bought dough. That prefab cookies taste is like drinking instant coffee, you can immediately tell the difference. It wouldn’t matter, Maisie would never take shortcuts where Nell was concerned. She deserved the best. All of Maisie’s friends tried to dissuade her from […]

Read More

A tree grows

tree growing in grave plot

When I pass, I’ve told my family that I want to be cremated. As much time as I spend with my camera in cemeteries, I also appreciate how much land they require. It’s imaginable that one day, we’ll run out of space for more cemeteries. Both of my parents have cremation directives in their wills. […]

Read More

A view of heaven

wooden gate

Goodwood Duxford tales… Papers and open books were scattered across the oak library table. Battered from years of lovers carving their initials in the surface, school kids stabbing it with frustrated pencils and pens, and boot heels scraping off varnish during long naps, its patina was still rich and deep. Goodwood Duxford and Frankie Harp […]

Read More

Quiet light

military cemetery at dusk

  Goodwood Duxford tales… The boy sat in a pool of quiet light, high on a hill surrounded by small, white granite headstones. His back against the rough bark of an old-growth pine, he closed his eyes and listened to the wind rustling through the trees. As the last rays of the sun spread out […]

Read More