And it was windy. Boy, was it windy. Right chilly too.
The day of my Mom's funeral. The cemetery is just across the section from the little church that I grew up attending and where Mom was a lifetime member. After the cemetery service we came back to the church basement for cookies and coffee. As I got out of the car, I grabbed my phone to get a picture of the view of the cemetery a mile away from the church. I wanted to remember the sky. As I got to the open field I met my son in law who had the same idea, his phone in hand.
The photo doesn't do the sky justice, but it sparks my memory of it. The blue tent that just minutes earlier we had been sitting under is now down as they caretaker disassembles it. Before it blows into the next county. People were standing holding the poles to stabilize it during the brief service at the grave side.
Southwest corner of the cemetery. We've of course been there before. The headstone already in place from when my Dad died.
If I would have driven just a quarter mile to the East I could have stood on the farm where I grew up and could have also taken a photo of the cemetery across the section.
Sometimes the huge world seems small.
I'm joining with Sarah again this month for Scene and Story.