Breakfast with Baby Barlow

I felt the need for some quiet time this morning and what better place to have a Burger King breakfast than the cemetery. It was a steady soft rain on the neighborhood today and outside the lovely iron fence, the work-a-day world went on as usual. Cars, trucks, busses whizzing by on their way to commerce, collision or mayhem or maybe off to visit the dearly departed; but not today.

I was the lone mobile visitor this morning and I walked most of Section F, taking a few photos along the way. The camera lens got a bit wet and some of the photos are a bit blurry but hey, this is Portland and it is winter.

I suppose I was looking for some signs of spring in the graveyard and there are, no doubt, quite a few. I saw daffodils springing from old graves, getting ready to bloom, once again setting in motion life in a violent yellow, and I noticed that under some of the trees the violets are blooming.

Like Dave, I can be walking across a section when my attention is suddenly pulled to look at a headstone. As if a voice rises from the sodden soil saying - "Yo! Yeah, you, look down." At that point, my momentum stops and I pay attention to the unheard voice.

In the African-American spiritual tradition of HooDoo, it is said that the spirits in the graveyard are waiting to help the living do certain deeds. They can help to heal, or hex or cause someone to be found, or for that matter, to founder. To those who believe in the power of the dead, a message to "look down" is a direct invitation.; the spirit of that grave wants to work with you. So, what does one do with such an invitation?