The Warehouse overlooks a graveyard. When guests stop by, we like to jerk our thumbs at the back windows and joke about how lucky we are to have such quiet neighbours. From the windows, the graveyard looks small and tidy, with a looping path through the mossy headstones and large trees looming overhead. This morning, I cast my bucket into the inspiration well and time and time again, it came up dry. My heart was longing for adventure and my work was missing that spark of energy that so easily ignites most days, so I tied my pink laces, grabbed my camera, and headed for the graveyard.
As it turns out, Woodbury Park Cemetery is much larger than our view from the office suggests. The cemetery was founded in 1849 and, until its capacity was reached in 1873, it was the final resting place to some 6,000 souls. Of that number, 650 monuments still remain on the grounds and it’s quiet pleasant to walk among the graves of Reverend Henry Thomas Austen and other notable men of the Victorian age in a bubble of birdsong and peacefulness. Well, it wasn’t quiet so pleasant today seeing as the path was slick with mud and the rain dribbled down in the most depressing manner, but when the sun is out, I can imagine the cemetery to be a lovely place for a stroll and ponder. C’mon spring!
p.s. Who else thinks it’s funny that John and Mary wood were buried under that stump? Only me? Oh, okay.