by Larry Chowning –
The fields and woods of the Middle Peninsula and Northern Neck are filled with graves of past generations. Some folks have monuments erected to their lives, while others are marked only by God’s monuments — covered in periwinkle, ivy and grass, resting anonymously in peace.
The family graveyard in the corner of the yard, or out yonder in the field, or beneath a grove of ancient cedar and oak trees, is often the final resting place of those with lifelong ties to the land.
Their life dates are etched in stone with a mysterious space in-between as to what went on between the dates. A stroll through any graveyard leaves one to pause — and to reflect on his or her own life and on the lives of others…
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