I don’t often walk through Mount Pleasant cemetery, once every few years, but whenever I do, I’m reminded what a beautiful pocket of the city it is. Today was particularly lovely, with leaves all shades of dried fruit, and an early morning light that made everything feel so hopeful and alive. I’m always curious to see how a family chooses to immortalize a loved one, and most specifically, the words they select to do so. How to distill a life into a poem, quotation or phrase. You can tell the Jewish graves by the stones placed upon them. I happened upon one today with more than thirty stones of different shapes, sizes and colours. As much as I adore flowers, roses wither and dry up, stones are permanent. If there wasn’t such a chill in the air, I might have spent more time reading through the many, many inscriptions. There’s always next time.
