You don’t get that kind of quiet in the city. The silence is peaceful, but one that is absolute. When you do speak, you speak in low tones.
In Canada, you mostly stay away from graveyards unless you have a personal connection – attending a funeral or lovingly tending a grave. Anything else feels like trespassing.
For someone like me on the fringe, that never bothered me. I’ve always felt oddly welcome.
Walking among the rows of graves is a walk into the past. You can see multiple generations buried together – were they a close family? What about those all alone? Why were they buried here, rather than transported somewhere else? Why did this community feel like home to them?
I have so many questions – sometimes the graveyard can provide answers.
Clusters of childhood graves? Likely a disease outbreak. Groups of headstones with the same dates? Perhaps a natural disaster, or industrial accident like a mine explosion. With the impermanence of digital information in our post-truth age, those dates etched in rock feel official. True.
When you see that date, who comes to mind? Your grandmother, who was born on that date? What did the world look like when she left it? Would she recognize the world today?
A place of death can make you more connected to life.
If you plan to visit a graveyard (or cemetery, whatever – I use the terms interchangeably) be respectful above all else. Follow the rules of opening hours, stick to the paths (or apologize to those you step over) and cool it with the rituals unless you know what you’re doing. No one wants to stumble across you dicking around with a Ouija board.
With this context, here are the graveyards I’ve been privileged to visit over the years.
St. Andrew’s (Sandwick) Cemetery in Courtenay, B.C.