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| How appropriate. |
I walk through Aoyama Cemetery one or two mornings a week, sometimes three. I love it. There's no place where I more consistently feel gratitude for my life here. Starting simply with being on the right side of the marble slabs. And from there to everything else: that my legs and feet and knees are cool with walking a few kilometers, that it's a pretty route, that I have a job to walk to, that it's work I enjoy that pays well, that my friendly co-worker keeps the office stocked with fresh boxes of cookies. And there's the cemetery itself. I like knowing I could take a slightly different path through it every day and not run out of variations for a long, long time. I love how it smells a little different each time I'm there, with something new always sprouting or withering. This week the hell flowers were in bloom. I'd forgotten about discovering the flowers of the dead for the first time last year until I stumbled over them near a few graves. They appear suddenly and die fast.
Catching an unexpected glimpse of them is just one more thing to be happy about in the cemetery.
2 comments:
How beautiful...and poetic.
A serene scene like that has got to be a nice change of pace for the person's family. Between all the hectic life adjustments and PPLIC claims, it's good to know there's still a place where the family can have a sense of peace - even if it's at their relative's grave.
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