In Woodville there is a small cemetery. In the far corner of that cemetery beside a large rolling field and a white fence there is a grave I often visit in autumn. Not because I know the person who rests there, but because of the passage on the marker. It reads:
" We know that autumn does not begin with the turning of the leaves, but earlier on some forgotten afternoon when a shadow passes over the fields and it is no longer summer. - Don't go far."
I'm not certain what it means but I can never hold back the tears. Don't go far.
7 comments:
IT was so beautiful....what do I always call you??
I feel the following link compliments the mood of this melancholy blog entry.
http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-3212007461820492290
I always go to the same grave. This is a depressing summer. I'll see you on Friday.
I wish life wasn't so short, but then maybe it wouldn't be so sweet?
Gotta love Woodville man. I left the .223. Get me some groundhogs. Ask Katie where the stoogies are kept.
Hey, I'm back. I'm inbetween classes and BORED out of my mind. And something smells really good. I think the guy next to me is eating pizza. Hunger sinking in...
You're great Jess. Thanks for being there for me.
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