Cemetery Sunday

Having never tried a challenge  until a week ago, this is my third for this week.

I prowled around the old part of our local cemetery quite early this morning but kept getting side tracked by  the stories the headstones told. There were far too many young children.

This faded, weathered  bunch of artificial flowers spoke to me the loudest. I could imagine the pain and grief with which they were carefully laid on a loved ones grave. And now, they are tattered, and scattered on the ground. I guess life has moved on.

I  like the way a piece of the stalk has made a shadow of a cross at the top. Rather appropriate considering where I was.