Hallowed Ground...

The wind blew the freezing rain through the pine trees. It was so cold this afternoon, but I felt compelled to walk, and brave the storm. My home is adjacent to the historic cemetery. From my living room window, one can see the crumbling gravestones. There is an overgrown willow at the entrance that has become my friend. "Hello, Man-Willow, I greet Thee with honor and respect." I said as I walked in.

There is such little traffic here that wind, rain, snow still make sound. Not muted sound amidst the noise of the modern world, but crisp, clear sound. "Perhaps this is what it was like before, when they first arrived?" I said to myself looking at the dates on the markers. They read early eighteen hundreds. Place of birth, Ohio. These prospectors apparently all came from the same region. All of them searching for gold. Sometimes entire families are buried together. Mother, Father, Infant lying in a row.

I grieve for them. I pray for their souls. Are they among the forgotten? Does anyone remember them still?

The ice hitting my face made me feel so alive! I ran all the way back home. My heart was pounding. Hand to my chest, I thought of God, and all of you.

Could you here me shouting at the wind? Could you feel me clutching at the pine needles? Could you see me swimming in the green?