Through Bush, Through Brier - A Midsummer Eve Visit
I followed the honeysuckle and grape vine hedge until I found a small opening. The vines had grown up over the fencing and the gate was hidden well. I pulled gently at the vines and they offered me just enough room to slip underneath them and through the fence, all the while being serenaded by the buzzing of countless bees that were working on the flowers in the hedge. The vines were likely planted to soften the view that the neighbours observed when they looked out their windows. The old cemetery was stark and harsh to look at. A small plot of land with no greenery to speak of, covered in a layer of white rock and tiny coloured glass shards. It was hardly displaying any romantic, gothic charm. Undaunted by the glare of the sun and the heat radiating up from the white rock, I wandered the rows looking for the right headstone. It had been a while since I had been there, and my return was long overdue. It took little effort to notice that the grave sites had no adornment. No flowers or