Halloween is coming, of course -- which goes a long way toward explaining why I found myself in an old cemetery Saturday night. Not alone; geez, I'm not crazy. No, it was an organized event in conjunction with the local history museum and there were a number of other people around.
My companion took this photo of the moon -- which, mind you, won't even be officially full until Tuesday night -- shining down on this elaborate 19th century grave marker. Is this not spookalicious?
4 comments:
Did you hear anyone whispering your name?
I didn't, Mr. Gee. But I did see a black cat streaking across a grave in the moonlight. Does that mean anything?
That's why they should have fences around cemeteries (because people are obviously dying to get in).
Anyhoo, there really is nothing spooky about black cats and cemeteries. Graves are nature's litterboxes.
That must explain the stampede to get in there, Pugsley. Nyuk-nyuk-nyuk.:-) It would seem to me that as an alpha canine you'd be doing something to stamp out that litter problem.
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