Burkett

written: Oct 3rd

Today was one of those very odd, but very enjoyable days.

The bulk of it was spent out at the Burkett cemetery.  I wanted to photograph all the tombstones for my family members there (that is where most of my mother's father's side of the family is buried...and where I have every intention in having my own tombstone placed upon my death -- though my ashes will be spread across the Pecan Bayou).   Originally, I was going to do this tomorrow, on my way back home, but when I mentioned it to my Mom she suggested we do it then.  After all, we had a few hours to kill, so why not?

I am so glad she went.  She knew of a whole bunch of other family members/ancestors buried there, that I had no clue about.  And then we ended up walking all over the little cemetery, as she recalled some ancestors buried up in the front, and I recalled seeing a Golson buried in the back corner.

All in all, we spent a good two to three hours out there and photographed about 50+ tombstones.  I haven't had a chance yet to go through all the photos to know exactly how many I did photograph.

Then back in Coleman, we were sitting out on the porch, just chatting and waiting for Robert to cook hotdogs, when out of the blue, this little hummingbird flies right past my head and checks out a flower in a hanging pot that was less than two feet away from me.  I swear, this was the THIRD hummingbird I have seen all year, so it was a really awesome split second interaction.  I seriously have to get a house so I can put out hummingbird feeders. 

To me, the hummingbird reminds me of Burkett, where my grandparents lived (as long as I can remember).  They had this awesome red hummingbird feeder there that the hummingbirds LOVED.  One of my fondest memories is of my grandfather telling me to watch him as he held the hummingbird feeder in his hand.  Within seconds there were a good two dozen of these awesome little birds feasting and jousting all around him.  And I still remember the feeling of awe -- of how they weren't the slightest bit afraid of him -- of how they trusted him not to harm them.  Just awesome.

Man, I miss those times. 

I miss my grandfather, who passed back in 2001.

I miss my grandmother, who has pretty much slipped into Alzheimer's disease.

I miss Burkett, the way I remember it -- not the air of despair that seems to have settled around it these days.

I miss all my family that used to live out there -- they've all passed now.

I miss being that wild child, running around, catching frogs, chasing chickens, being chased by the bull I was warned over and over to leave alone. 

I miss watching shooting stars in the cemetery (there's no light pollution that far out in the country).

I miss the peacocks that used to be out there.

I miss those carefree days.