I don’t make it a habit to photograph graveyards, though I am eternally intrigued by them. They’re all over the place here in Massachusetts, and there’s a stately quality about them that almost transcends death itself.

Now, you may be wondering what in the hell was I doing at a cemetery at night, and I can assure you I have a perfectly good answer. I was on a road trip, exploring Western Massachusetts on my way to the Rhinebeck Valley in Upstate New York. Not wanting to just hop on the Turnpike, I decided to take the scenic route, and as I usually do when driving at night, with no idea where I am, or how to get to where I want to go, I got lost. So I pulled over to consult the map and discovered this scene.

The way the trees mirrored the headstones was what caught my attention, and prompted me to get out and explore. This is with the Holga, rigged with a rubberband to keep the shutter open, and just a wild guess on the time. I think I counted to 60.

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