I spent the first decade of my life next door to a cemetary. And I loved it. We would play there constantly, ride our bikes across the orange gravel roads, play hide-and-seek, sit and think, read names, find old gravestones, etc. My parents raised us to be very respectful of the human body, so we had a sense of awe and wonder there. Knowing we would also see such a fate one day. It's made me very critical of cemetaries; I think all should have large old trees, soft grass, separation from main roads, peace, quiet, and flowers.
We also had a secret entrance from our alley into the back yard. You had to walk through a dozen yards (or so it seemed) of a narrow, overgrown dirt path. I swear I can still feel the soft dirt under my shoes and I haven't been there in 20 years.
I am old. 20 years ago. Wow.
Whatever. It was awesome, and I'm so grateful I grew up next to something rather severe. I was able to see its beauty and what it offered any person: a place to be with one's thoughts, prayers, emotions, in silence and stillness.
We have a family cabin about 30 miles from that cemetary. I hope to take a little hike through it later this month. I hope it has been cared for in the last two decades... People deserve that, you know?
What about you? Anyone live near something rather odd? Did you love it? Would you avoid it like the plague?