Entries about cemeteries

The New York City Sessions

Fire Island

New York City in Pictures

The city is more approachable than I thought it would be. I love walking through New York. I can see why there are photographers who spend their entire careers here. Every street is different. Every street carries its own vibe.

Walking in Manhattan is like exploring a massive canyon system full of interweaving maze of steep U shaped valleys. Instead of a river, there are the streets, teaming with cars and people like water over rocks.

The lighting is beautiful. It changes throughout the day and time of year. The light bounces off the side of the wall of tall buildings and glass.

Street Scenes

Central Park

The Brooklyn Bridge

I really wanted to walk across the Brooklyn Bridge. I read about its construction in David McCullough’s book, “The Great Bridge” some years ago and wanted to see it for myself.

I started out on the Brooklyn side. I wanted to get some perspective from Brooklyn Bridge Park. From here, I could see both the Brooklyn Bridge and the Manhattan Bridge. The park was deserted, my friend and I the only ones brave enough to face the chilly winter air. I didn’t mind. I love deserted parks.

To walk the promenade across the bridge is to walk across history. The story of this bridge is fascinating. John Roebling designed it, then died from having his foot crushed on site. His son Washington took over, but was disabled and bed ridden by Caisson disease. His wife Emily became his eyes, ears for the project, directing the workers and engineers with written orders from Washington. The bridge was complete in 1883, and has been the link between Brooklyn and Manhattan ever since.

The New Paltz Old Cemetery

I found this cemetery walking through the town of New Paltz, NY. The side light of a wintry mid winter afternoon lit the old headstones beautifully. I enjoy walking through old cemeteries. They are peaceful, a good place to reflect.

I may never make it back here again. However, it won't be from lack of trying. New York is amazing, and if you get an opportunity, go. Spend a couple days walking around Manhattan and Brooklyn. Spend some time in Central Park. Take a bite of the Big Apple, I think you'll find it delicious.

I know I did.

America isn’t an old country. That being said, America does have a lot of history packed into a short two hundred thirty five years. I was thinking about this today as I walked through an old cemetery near the grounds of the ghost town of Clifton, Michigan.

This cemetery dates back to the copper mining boom of the mid to late 1800’s that swept through the Keweenaw Peninsula of Michigan. I’ve always had a keen interest in ghost towns. I love walking among the ruins of old dilapidated buildings and wondering how and why people lived here, and what happened to them. The copper mining industry of western Michigan is long past. The mines are closed, but the history remains. The once booming towns have been reclaimed by the forest. The cemetery I walked through today has suffered the same fate.

I walked down a narrow winding trail that snaked through the dark evergreen forest. I had to jump over downed trees that blocked the path, and slipped on the mud from the recent rains. I walked quietly thorough the woods trying not to make much noise. I feel that cemeteries should be quiet places, and I didn’t want to disturb the peace of a silent forest.

I once visited the cemetery in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. While walking through the hundreds of gravestones there, pondering this epic civil war battle, a family of tourists bumbled along right next to me. They were a mob, complete with squawking children running amok, loud parents dropping their snack food wrappers here and there, and generally disturbing the peace. They did a good job bothering me, and I was miffed about their disrespect for the place. To them, it could have been Disneyland; just another place to snap a picture of “Bobby” drinking coke and yelling near a statue… Sorry, I digress. The point being: Have some respect.

So I walked softly when I entered the cemetery grounds. The trail narrowed to a footpath barely 10 inches wide and it rambled through the dark woods past the headstones that marked the graves of the people buried there. The lighting was good; a bright overcast that made the gray of the stonework contrast nicely with the lush green of the surrounding forest. There weren’t many headstones still intact. One hundred and forty years have past since some of these stones had been set, and the forest had reclaimed much of its old territory. Over the years, many of them have been knocked down, chipped, and broken.

I was struck by the intricate scrollwork, and design of the stones. In my mind, the master stonemasons who designed and carved these stones were far superior to any design you see today. They are works of art, and the time and effort that was put into them is still evident. The stones have a haunting beauty to them; reminders of a forgotten time when this small ghost town was once important.