I had never been to Mt. Auburn Cemetery in the winter until I biked there this afternoon on a sunny, 30-degree day. Mt. Auburn became such a regular part of my life last year and it seemed like a shame to experience it in every season but this one. I didn’t know what to expect and at first I didn’t quite know what to look for. At first I began to pay attention to the transparency around me, the perspective that comes with seeing through through things, especially as the sun is approaching the horizon and casting shadows through the trees. I made my way to Consecration Dell to see what state the shallow pool was in, but with a thin covering of snow, there wasn’t much to look at. So I hiked up the hill to overlook to see what the view of Boston was like. It was pleasant, but I wasn’t finding anything in particular that caught my attention and I began to wonder if I would end this visit without any surprises. I wandered my way back down the hill to the ponds I normally stroll by on my back to the gate, and here again the snow
This afternoon proved to be a perfect autumn afternoon to stroll through Beacon Hill with a friend. After lunch at the 77 Pub, we wound our way leisurely through the narrow streets, exploring alleys and sidestreets as we came upon them, pausing in mid conversation to admire one mansion or another, taking everything as an excuse to prolong our meandering.
This morning I took some time to myself and spent my first hours as a 30-year-old at Mt. Auburn cemetery with may camera and my walking shoes. After breakfast at Zaftig’s in Brookline and before heading back to BC for work, I lucky enough to find myself in Concecration Dell where I noticed the green film that had been accumulating during the summer now had a layer of new-fallen leaves embedded in it. Contemplating the leaves in a a garden cemetery seemed like a fittingly meditative way to begin my third decade –just enough momento mori to set a reflective mood without getting too morbid.
There are more photos from this morning in the “Leaves” photo gallery.
A nice view of Boston from Mt. Auburn Cemetery this evening.
This evening I attended my first Lantern Festival at Forest Hills Cemetery in Jamaica Plain. Marlene and I had “hope” written on our lamp in Chinese calligraphy. At about 8:30, we launched it into the pond with hundreds of other lamps and then watched as they drifted in mysterious, constantly-changing formations throughout the rest of the evening.
This evening I hadn’t been in Mt. Auburn for more than five minutes when I looked up to see this hawk perched on a lowing-hanging branch of an Oak tree. For the next fifteen minutes, I watched it sit stoicly while a blue-jay harrassed it, charging down ever few minutes to glance of the hawk’s head.
My best guess it was a red-tailed hawk.
This gravestone engraving has puzzled me ever since I first saw it. As of yet, I don’t have any leads.