It's the cemetery again. My friend, Pat and I loaded gear into her car and bombed through the vacant, rain-swept streets of North Portland to arrive at the old pioneer cemetery again very early this morning. Slow, heavy drip-drip-drip so familiar and even comforting to natives here, a little rain won't prevent your intrepid photo-geeks from catching the early light and tonal mood for a Halloween-ish shoot. The gates were open and we were entirely alone, as is usual in this quiet and humble place.
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| Can you see the faces? This tree had sustained pretty dramatic damage to the trunk with a large portion split away, leaving this symmetrical gash exposed. |
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| There are many graves of children and infants, and this one particularly touched me this morning, just seven years old when he died. His mother, Alice, was placed here with him sometime later. I know Halloween invites the opportunity to create some creepy images, but this small grave is just so sweet and sad. |
I am now feeling sufficiently in touch with my mortality, so maybe will try for a lighter subject next post!
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