Sunday, July 11, 2010

Old Haunts

Everyone should have a secret place. A place you go when you need to be alone, where you can dream, and enjoy the quiet.

This is mine.

I know. It's a little odd that I chose a pioneer graveyard. But, if you were to pay it a visit, you would understand. At least I hope you would. But that's ok if you don't. I march to the beat of a different drum.

I shared this place with a friend once, and she said "Are you kidding me?" (Apparently, she didn't understand the music that I was trying to play. Even so, she's still an amazing friend.)

I will tell you the story of it's discovery on a night long ago when a handsome young boy took me on a date. We were out on a walk through a golf course in the middle of the night, under a full moon, and he said, "I'm going to take you to one of my favorite places. I don't take just anyone here, you know. But, something tells me you would appreciate it."

We wandered into the trees, and hiked through the tall grass. He lead the way as I followed behind, holding onto his belt loops for safety. I had no idea where we were going.

When we stopped, we were standing right here.

I gasped. The monuments surrounded by the shadows of wild flowers and Aspen, were tilted askew by years and harsh weather. The whole place was illuminated by the moon. It should have been frightening, but it wasn't. It was so beautiful. We sat on a bench and listened to the leaves rustling in the breeze, and we talked ... more like whispered.

That conversation under the light of the moon was a moment that I will always remember. There was a deep connection between that boy and me. He was a kindred spirit. We shared a love of the past, and dreamed of having a room in our future house that was dedicated to Christmas celebrations.

A few months passed, and the handsome boy got engaged to another girl. I met her once a little later, and I can tell you, she was not the kind to appreciate a secret place, or a Christmas room.

I was so sad. For a while, there was a hole in my heart.

I returned to the graveyard and sat on the bench. This time it was day, and I could see the details that surrounded me on that magical night. Sunlight peeked through the trees and birds were chirping in song. I sat on the bench a long, long while and listened to the music. I found peace in this place. I returned home and carried on.

I have made many visits to Glenwood over the years, but once I moved to California, they became few and far between.

Today I was in Park City with Eden. We rode the ski lift and whizzed down the mountain on the Alpine slide.

When we were done, I decided it was time to return to my secret place and share it with another kindred spirit -- Eden. I knew he would love it too.

And, he did.


Bethany @ Organic Enchilada said...

Oh, my. I love it. I have an affinity for cemeteries. I may have to try to find this one.

I told my husband that if he buries me in a cemetery with no trees or mystery I will never forgive him.

And that bench Eden is sitting on seems so out of place. Sad. Couldn't they have put in a wooden one or something?

tomiannie said...

Beautiful! After pictures and a story like that, though, I can't imagine anyone who wouldn't want to be there...

The Sanderson Fam said...

Please, Please, Please post where exactly that cemetery is! I guess I'll do a google of Park City and Glenwood & see what comes up. It looks amazing!