Small Treasures

I’ve written about St. Cecilia’s Cemetery many times. It’s an unassuming Catholic burial spot in the middle of a working class neighborhood. The cemetery is the place of my (almost daily) constitutional and it’s been that place for nearly a year. Yet, I find new images that catch my eye. Perhaps it’s the slant of sunlight hitting a statue just so or it’s just my eyes pointed at the right place, at the right time. I kick myself for not carrying a camera.

Today I got smart and did just that. Here’s what I saw:

Adaline Panquette's Medieval Messenger

Overgrown Angel

Faded Madonna

The Visitor

The plot is near the back. The grass in the 10×3 f00t rectangle is greener than the surrounding lawn. At the head is an overload of garden paraphernalia: solar-paneled glow lights, pinwheels, and non-military flags. The plot is too new for a gravestone yet there is a picture of a young man in his late teens smiling into the camera. 

And she’s there nearly everyday around noon. She sits cross-legged on the edge of the plot, head bowed, picking the dark green grass between her fingers. Sometimes a man is with her. He leans against the car, arms folded, looking down at her. Is he tolerating her visits or is his grief not as visible?

This tableau is not unique to St. Cecilia’s in Leominster. It’s repeated in every cemetery.

Cool Nature Thing

In the midst of my daily constitutional around St. Cecilia’s cemetery, I saw a hawk totally eviscerate a squirrel.

Cool.

Squirrels need this to survive the St. Cecilia hawk.

The Living

Some people scratch their heads when they hear I jog in a cemetery.

“Creepy”

“Morbid”

“Scary”

Honestly, I have more stories about the living who roam St. Cecilia’s than I do about those resting peacefully.

Case in point:

Earlier today I took my morning constitutional and was enjoying having the whole place to myself. Then I noticed a car crawling slowly around the outer loop. That didn’t catch my attention since most cars move slowly among the gravestones as the drivers search for a loved one, childhood friend or work colleague. What caught my eye was the driver side door was open while it was in motion.

Since we were in a intersecting projectory, my curiosity was soon satisfied. A woman in her late 50’s was WALKING HER FREAKIN’ TOY POODLE. She had one hand was on the steering wheel and the other hand holding the leash.

I thought that perhaps she was handicapped. But I noticed no handicap plates or signs. Then I remembered…

There’s a $125 fine for walking dogs in St. Cecilia’s.

Sometimes I prefer the Dead to the Living.

Final Resting Place

Hubby and I have a favorite place to jog – St. Cecilia’s Cemetery in Leominster, MA. It’s a popular place for the locals to get their daily walk. It’s a fine, flat piece of land in the middle of a working class neighborhood. It may not be as historic a cemetery like Arlington or Mt. Auburn but if you stop and look around, you’ll find stones recalling the French Canadian populace that built Leominster and the faith that sustained them.

After one jog, I captured a few images from this very unassuming burial spot.

Three Baby Graves

Lizzie’s Long Shadow

Missing Jim’s Smile

Yang

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