The other day I spent some time in an old 19th century cemetery, in a neighboring southern Oregon town - Ashland. It's a tranquil, shady place, with trees and shadows providing a bulwark against the heat of a late summer sun. And many of the gravestones seemed to be almost calling out to me. Including this one - celebrating a life that began in 1852 - 1852-1888 by La Chachalaca Fotografía, on Flickr The novelist George Eliot writes: "...but the realm of silence is large enough beyond the grave...." It's a silent place, on an afternoon in 2014. A time to think .... or, like this grave motto - to be "hopefully waiting"... Hopefully Waiting the Resurrection by La Chachalaca Fotografía, on Flickr Everywhere you turn, a great sense of light bisecting the shadow - In the shadow of his wings by La Chachalaca Fotografía, on Flickr And then the very human sense of loss, some more painful probably than others - losing a newborn after only a few days - Aged 3 Days by La Chachalaca Fotografía, on Flickr This next one - "Gone So Soon" - made me think of something Douglas Adams (he of "Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy" fame) once wrote - “I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I needed to be.” Gone So Soon by La Chachalaca Fotografía, on Flickr And then my favorite, a quotation at the bottom of a larger funerary pillar, which one had to squint to read, because of the light and shadow - I am the vine, you are the branches by La Chachalaca Fotografía, on Flickr It wasn't all 19th Century, quite a few went into the 20th - including this one - I shall be satisfied by La Chachalaca Fotografía, on Flickr Being a writer, I was particularly struck by the nature of the formal, biblical-inspired language - "they were always abounding" is not a phrase one hears in casual conversation - They were always abounding by La Chachalaca Fotografía, on Flickr Finally the last image is my other favorite - also the grave of a newborn - but with what must be a faithful dog sitting atop, though the sculptor seems to have been inspired by seal physiology, but there weren't many seals in landlocked 19th century southern Oregon. Baby Inman by La Chachalaca Fotografía, on Flickr All the photos were taken with my Sigma 30mm (A)rt lens, on a GX1 body; most at the widest (f/2.8) aperture.