I Agree with Gracie when It Comes to Walls

Gracie's Very Big Day

Licked ice and investigated a discarded plastic food tray.

Declared the liquor and wine bottles, beer cans, and huge plastic Sun Drop bottle lining the lake disgraceful.

Pointed at a bird and nest and leapt in fear when said bird flew away.

Beamed in sunshine.

Wandered the perimeter of the lower field and drank from the stream.

Studied an angel and listened politely to a lady chat about her daily visit to her husband's and two children's graves.

Enjoyed the big pet offered by a VISTA volunteer who loves her time in Sewanee.

Sniffed a pole while her walker snapped reflections on spotless University vans.

Accepted a biscuit for being a good girl on her return home after an hour-and-a-half walk.

Then bolted through the door and ran in big circles for about twenty minutes before plopping on her porch!

The Quick and the Dead

Gracie visited both today, in cold mist, and judged both.

Her ears spoke for her: "Excellent!"

A Day of the Dead

On a blustery, frigid day, a friend and I made a walk through two cemeteries, The University Cemetery and the St. Mary-O'Dear Cemetery.

In one, The University Cemetery, old lions of the southern literary renaissance lie: Allen Tate (whose "Ode to the Confederate Dead" can be read here), Peter Taylor, and Andrew Lytle, whose gravestone is decorated with a Confederate battle flag and plastic flowers. The founder of the seminary is commemorated by an especially beautiful monument.
In the other, The O'Dear Cemetery on Sherwood Road near the Episcopal convent, graves of mountain folk sport various decorations ranging from a life size deer to fake flowers and ceramic angels. My favorite celebrates one man's special achievement as "the best damn moonshiner that ever lived."
In the 19th century, Americans escaped to cemeteries for pleasure and contemplation. Today, I did, too.