I go to the graveyard for Father's Day. I miss my dad. I lie on the grave and ask the sky why doesn't it swallow me whole and it opens white and wide and yawns it's reply.
Afterwards...
I stop my car open mouthed under a canopy of white boned trees. I ask a man on a tractor why this whole row of trees doesn't have any leaves and the gravedigger tells me it is a moth infestation. Every tree is covered in a webby muslin that flaps like plastic in the breeze. It sits so appropriately in the graveyard and is quite astonishing.
Mrs Haversham's dream, an overexposed, cling film wrapped film set. The moth larvae spin their beforebornness over the gravestones and grass..a theatrical sheen of winter white in the bright June day...
Supposedly the trees will return to normal after this cloaked strangled suffering.
I imagine they will stretch towards breath and light like love in the morning
10 comments:
Beautiful sentiments, beautiful words, beautiful pictures. Thank you for all that you contribute and here's hoping your day wasn't too difficult. xx
;(
Miss you. Miss dad. Love you both.
x
it's ghostly huh?
I saw it too but decided not to take photos:
to reflect at nature and it's strange chemistry:
those past stay alive in our hearts:
❤
So moving, my heart aches for you.
xx
this is beautiful louise. those trees are amazing, never seen anything like it. x
Thanks for taking the time to say a little something. Those thoughtful somethings... lovely beings you are
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I have never seen anything like that before, quite incredible. I am sorry to see that Father's day was a day of memories only for you.
Love you xx
It looks like winter,
Shiv x
This is a great post - made me sad and wonder-ful at the same time.
really beautiful
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