A few weeks ago, my husband and I went on a week-long get away. Most people would probable want to go to the beach, somewhere warm, but my husband and I aren’t most people.
Instead we slept in a parking lot, camped in the woods of Tennessee, and did quite a bit of hiking.
We are a little nutty, but we are fun, if anything.
On a particular day we found a trail off the beaten path and followed it. We met no one as it steadily rose up the side of a cliff. In fact, a couple of times we didn’t even think there was a trail, and that indeed we might just be wandering, lost in a forest. But we pressed on, pushed by the promise that some might be just ahead.
We crawled up wet leaves, and over ancient roots, promising ourselves that we would turn around if nothing was beyond what our eye could see.
Then we saw green – mossy green mounds!
A clearing, with trees pushing in appeared before us. We’d found a hidden grave yard lost in time.
Silence hung over the scene as if in reverence for what lay there.
This family had picked a perfect place to rest their loved ones bones. Beautiful and sweet, the woods framed their plots, hiding them away, yet beckoning for you to come and enjoy a moment of stillness with them.
We took in a deep breath and thought of the time the living once dug these graves, and how they probably sang hymns as they said their goodbyes.
We found all of this because we wandered off the beaten path and into the unknown.