Haiku and other thoughts of the season

October wind sends
leaves whispering, skittering
through the graveyard

There is a beautiful memorial park near my home where I sometimes walk when I  want peace, lots of enormous old trees, and a sea of emerald.

In fall, the palette expands.

Once I slipped into the mausoleum and was stunned by the stained glass everywhere.

Occasionally, melancholy creeps over me in cemeteries, but mostly I feel peaceful--a sense of being connected, in communion, to those who've been, those who are, and those who are still to come.

That seems appropriate on the Day of the Dead.