A Walk Among the Lichen

You asked where a stroll might be found, so I ventured beyond the door and followed a sloping path toward the old grounds of the cemetery. The brick paths are bordered by damp ivy and weathered headstones that soften beneath blankets of pale lichen. I paused beside a sunken slate marker, tracing the damp relief of carved vine motifs with a gloved finger. Beneath a crooked fern, a dark beetle crept slowly over fallen oak leaves. It is remarkably peaceful here, with only the distant rustle of towering pine trees to break the silence.