Monday, September 15, 2008

A Visit to Dutton Cemetery:

Cebah & I stopped by the cemetery on our way to the Mexican grocery store today. I wanted to take some photos of my grandparent's headstones for the new project, and then the picture-taking escalated. When I saw a particularily beautiful buckeye butterfly, (possibly my favorite butterfly), & was reminded how the butterfly is sometimes a symbol of the soul, I thought why not make a photo of everything in the cemetery which has a bearing on the project. These are what I wound up with.

































































































































































Meanwhile Cebah discovered some wild grapes in the fencerow, not exactly like the wonderful ones we used to pick in the old days, that kind is extinct around here now I think, but not exactly the wanky kind we call possum grapes either. I was a little skeptical that something good could be made from them, but after the experience with the wild peaches, I went with it. We decided to call the jelly, so dark purple that it's almost fittingly black, graveyard possum jelly. It is delicious.

3 comments:

Cathy said...

The photos are all marvelous, but two left me breathless: the one of Cebah under that enormous tree (which must
be older than the Civil War), and the one of her hands.

Dan Dutton said...

It IS a very old tree, especially for a cedar. I remember, very vividly, when the gravedigger had me check his impeccable workmanship (a rectangular emptiness that looked like it had been cut with a razor rather than a shovel) on my uncle Phillip's grave, seeing where he had to slice through several cedar roots. And that grave was a ways from the trunk. So no doubt this ancient cedar has transmogrified the Duttons to benefit.

Cebah's oldest sister, Francis, said that when she died she wanted to come back as a possum so she could ramble around in the woods and eat wild grapes. While we were joking about the graveyard possum jelly (excellent for breakfast this morning) I quiped that the grapes growing in the fencerow of our cemetery would be right at hand for a transmigrative ghost possum emergence.

Now the image of a grinning glowing ectoplasmic possum is haunting my imagination.

Apifera Farm said...

What's weird is, last night a possum came onto the deck for the cat food- usually it's a skunk, but last nite it was a possum. Was Cebah flying in her dream, I wonder. he picture of her at the bootom looks so much like you.

I like the tombstone at the top. Beautiful. To have you kin buried near by is really moving and a gift. I put some of my dad's ashes at the foot of Pumpkin Head's tomb stone in the garden. It helps to have a place where they really are, so you can sort of grasp ahold of it.

I'm going to be doing a map of my novel soon. I like to make maps. So now I need a map of the Dutton plce, to get my bearings. You can take your time, I know you're busy. Perhpas best to send it in an email. Don't want squaters showing up.