I love it. My eyes practically drink in the trees with their vibrant hues. Radiant greens, rich browns, or the delicate pink-white flowers that frequent the cherry trees. I love the smell of loam and the crunch of decaying leaves underfoot. It’s absolutely astounding to stand in the flux of nature and feel the cycle of life around you. I just can’t imagine another way I could have spent today that would have left me more fulfilled.

We brought food with us to eat and I listened quietly as my Hunny and soon to be Mom in law spoke of family- who lives where, who’s related to who, how, and old ghost tales from around the area that are passed amongst the members. It’s so wonderful and strange, I find myself musing, to think that I am part of this family now- these people who are related and yet can speak so easily to one another. I’m not used to it but they’re all working hard to change this little quirk of mine. ;)

My soon to be Mom in law has a thing with anything Civil War related. She absolutely loves it, a complete history nut just like my adoptive Mom. One of the things she likes to do in her free time is make sure old Civil War graves are not forgotten and that they get flowers regularly even if they don’t belong to people we’re related too. It’s pretty cool.

Anyways, as we were driving along she started to tell Hunny and I about this one Civil War she and a couple of others had found back in an old obscure cemetery. She went on to tell us further about how they had gone out to visit it a few times only to gradually discover that someone had been stealing the headstones of babies and selling them off to tourists and such.

“What?!” Hunny and I both turned in our seats at the same time, absolutely furious. I can hardly believe people would do such a thing, let alone imagine the kind depravity a person would have to possess to actually do that. We decided to give it a visit.

It was a fairly well hidden place. Easy to miss if you didn’t already know where it was or come stumbling across it after being completely lost. Tucked away on the side of some old dirt road on the side of another dirt road but let me tell you- it was the most beautiful place I have ever had the pleasure to experience.

It’s not a huge place, surrounded by woods on all sides and an older type chain fence. When we came up to the entrance their was an old faded sign (see picture) that read Bland Cemetery.

Just outside the gate was a small wooden cross that said “God Loves You” in brightly painted letters. It was fairly worn and yet it seemed to new in comparison to everything else. Not quite faded plastic flowers were tied about it. We decided this must have been where someone buried a very, very beloved pet- a fact that warmed my heart.

Further in I could see the old Civil War headstone, as it stood the tallest, surrounded by a handful of smaller stones- much smaller than most I’ve seen in any other cemetery. With a respective visit to each we found that most were indeed the headstones of children or babies, a mother, a couple, and some elder siblings as far as we could tell. Most had died in the 1800′s, some no more than a year old.

I was absolutely horrified to discover that we really could tell where some headstones had been taken from, where some had tried, and worse yet- where someone might have tried to dig up one of the graves itself. It’s so awful to imagine someone doing that. It makes me furious and disgusted all at the same time.

On a lighter note I was happy to see that some kind soul had placed bright plastic flowers on most of the graves fairly recently. Long enough ago that had faded with rain and cold but not long enough that they had been disturbed by time. While I agree the living should keep on living I don’t believe the dead should be forgotten. The soul may have left the body and moved on but places like that are sacred and even though the families of those people may be long gone or maybe just forgotten that doesn’t change the fact that during someone’s time of grief- that cemetery was their sanctuary and place of peace.

To think that someone could sell off pieces of that makes me sick to the very core of my being.

Places like that should be respected. They should be respected even more so when they are re-discovered after being forgotten for some period of time. I don’t know but forgotten things and places seem to gain some sort of magick in my mind’s eye, like they have been stolen off to the land of Faerie and only just returned to claim our attention once again.

In a way it reminded me of “The Secret Garden”. The ground covered by moss with little purple flowers springing up everywhere. Shoots of green and lavender adorning all the places that had be desecrated. It was as if Mother Nature was making amends for the faults in some greedy individual, comforting the dead children with her gentle embrace. So beautiful.

I’ve decided to come back and visit the Bland Cemetery again soon. I want to bring flowers and leave them as someone else has done before me and visit with any spirits that may linger and desire company. I’d even like to bring some paint with me sometime and put a new coat on that sign- I wonder if that would be okay though? Mayhaps I should find out who owns the property first? Do people own cemeteries? Hmm.

I have done a little research and while I was very, very sad not to have brought my own camera with me I actually (amazingly) did find some pictures on the net on some rootsweb like site. That’s where I got the picture above. There were others but they were of headstones and I just don’t feel right sharing those without permission from remaining kin. I didn’t manage to find any history on the old place yet but I’m not done looking and I really, really, do want to come back and visit that place again sometime soon.

More so, I think I’m going to write a short story about this marvelous forgotten place. I can hardly believe how deeply it has touched me and I know no words can do it justice but as a writer I’m not above trying. I might even take a notebook out there to work on it.

So much inspiration. So beautiful. *sigh* I wish the day hadn’t ended but then I might never have had the chance to share it with all of you, my wonderful readers. I just hope I can take that place into my heart and write something truly wonderful so in a way, no matter how much it is desecrated, it will remain untainted and sacred forever.