When I was a little girl I used to go to work with my Daddy. He is a contractor and among the things he did/does is digging graves. It took until I was about 12 to figure out it was not the norm to grow up playing in a cemetery, let alone be lifted down into the hole to clean up sticks and roots that were not visually appealing. Luckily when I did figure all this out it was a sort of silent revelation so there were no social consequences, which let's face it, at 12 would have been monumental.I went for a bike ride on Saturday and I'm glad that I did for a few reasons, the amazing weather, the chance to finally explore the Provo cemetery, and another chance to fall deeper in love with my iPhone. =)
I love the angel seen above, she was even more beautiful in person.
Anchors away! I would like to think this stone belong to an ex Navy man.
I thought this stone was a lovely color so I snapped a few shots.
This one drew me in, the gargantuan granite ball fascinated me.
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