Gravely Speaking

One day last week it was actually sunny and I was tempted to take my camera out of mothballs and take a few pot shots at village life.  Or death, as it were...

The Baptist cemetery on Main Street has graves dating to the early 1800s, many sadly falling to ruin.
The wrought iron fence was just managing to keep its head above the dirty snowline.

The rounded tops of the gravestones resemble

cookie-cutter shaped people.

There's an intriguing gap in the fence. 

I was standing on my tip-toes to get this photo, the snow pile being almost taller than me,

and the cemetery being on a higher level than the street.

Here's the gravestone that's visible through the gap ,

marking the passing of William Francis,

infant son of William and Mary Terylor in 1838.

Many believe that loved ones will all be reunited after death.

There are people who can talk to the dead

and bring messages back of hope and healing for those left behind. 

There are people who are able to see ghosts that are still walking this plane.

But only bones and those memories and sentiments that we bring with us

when we visit the graveyard linger there;

the spirits have moved on.

*

(Thanks to the Vintage Moth for family image)

Shrine On!

I had a wonderful surprise in the mail today! Due to my sprained ankle (yes, yes, I know I've milked the subject dry) I haven't made it to the post office of late to clean out the usual build up of dust from my mail box. Yesterday, however, I was befuddled to find a "final warning!" card there to pick up a parcel that had, apparently, been awaiting me for several days. As the postal clerks had gone home, I had to wait until this morning to collect my mystery mail. I was completely surprised and utterly delighted to find that my friend over at Driftwood & Turtles had sent me the book, Shrines, Images of Italian Worship by Steven Rothfeld.

The dust jacket tells us, "Created by average people as an expression of religious devotion, the shrines appear along ordinary roads in villages and cities, in the fields of farmers, and in the yards of simple cottages and homes."

*

THANK YOU SO VERY VERY MUCH, KIBBY!

*

The Drifter knew I'd love the book because I'd gathered a few images of my own on my trip to Calabria a while back. Here's a taste of what I saw:

(Photo taken in Tropea, May 2007. I am especially fond of the little electric candle that's been rigged up inside.)

*

(Photo taken in Tropea, May 2007. At this shrine, I was tickled by the lingering presence of a Christmas garland draped over the padlocked Madonna).

*

Throughout my trip, I was enchanted by the many and varied shrines embedded in the walls of palazzos, popping up in the middle of roadways, jumping out from shadowed nooks and beside hidden doorways. They embodied the simplicity, sincerity, and oftimes full-blown tackiness of genuine folk art.

*

(Photo taken in Pizzo, 2007)

Shrine to Our Lady of the Dish Towel (?)

*

On a sadder note, the publication of Mr. Rothfeld's book pretty much eradicates my fantasy of getting an arts grant from the Canada Council to roam about Italy gathering photos of folksy shrines. It's been done, they'll tell me.

*

*

Maybe instead I'll try pitching the idea of collecting pictures of graveyard statuary and bathtub Madonnas from PEI!

(Seen above: Our Leaning Lady)

***

The story of the Anglican Church here is that it was constructed by a boat-builder in much the same manner as a sailing ship would be made. It has a Scandinavian look to it, don't you think?

This is a Baptist cemetery. Most of the headstones are dated from the early 1800's. I like how each has its own personality and attitude. Some even seem to have a head and shoulders.

Lupins grow wild in the ditches here. June is a wonderful month for wildflowers. And for humans, too, because of that. Unless you have allergies.

The red green and white, the horizontal and vertical lines, the weatherbeaten wood and various textures all caught my eye.


This view of the farm on the hill, complete with cows (you have to look REALLY closely but they are there), situated right on the main street of the village, always tempts me to capture it in a picture. But you have to be here to get the full effect. Meanwhile, I hope this little ramble will tide you over till your next, or first, visit. Come on down! (but call first)

PEI Skies

Seagull nests.


Petrified hay bales (it's the salt air that does it).


Out standing in his field.

Cross roadless.

Church yard garden.

Blogs can be like pictorial conversations. Someone over on someone else's blog said something about PEI and this reminded me of some images I've gathered from various trips to the Island.

**************************

Just taking a little blogging breather from my fantastic voyage to the beautiful concrete jungle of NYC. Breathe along with me...big breath in...hold it, hold it... and sigh it out... aaaahhhh