it was cold today, a gentle wind rustled fallen bright orange leaves and i jumped (studying the horror genre and watching ginger snaps in film class this week probably didn't help). i was alone in a grave yard and i have never felt so vulnerable....or alive. i walked on designated paths for obvious reasons, and breathed in a heavy sigh, i was scared. i had nothing but respect for what surrounded me: the living's way of making the dead still feel beautiful and loved. what would read on my grave stone? fresh flowers beamed bright against the monochrome - a reminder that what lay beneath once used to be full of life, whilst withered flowers shadowed others - reminding us that all things must pass. it was an overwhelming sea of silent contrasts, a setting so full of sadness masked in beauty.
photos by asha
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