OK ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, it’s yet again time for Uncle Mitchell to add “Memories” to my list of offbeat recollections.

I have always been fascinated by cemeteries, graveyards and/or burial grounds. I think, for me, it’s a way to stay connected to those who have gone before us – a way to appreciate the past. These places, no matter what we call them, are historical collections which provide a walking tour of history. A glimpse into the unknown, or the partially known. A look back.

I tend to look back fairly frequently. Probably has to do with how I grew up. I was not from a family of forward thinkers. We sort of managed one day at a time without much thought given to what the next trip down the road might bring. I suspect it had something to do with growing up in a family with too vivid recollections of the “Depression” – apples didn’t fall far from those trees in our neighborhood. It was important to have the bird in the hand, disregarding what might lurk in the bushes. We did OK though, all things considered. But we were constantly reminded of where we came from and about those who had gone before us. I suspect that may have contributed to my interest in and fascination with cemeteries and the like.

Over the years I have visited lots of burial places, here and abroad. I used to think that we had some pretty significant historical places here in the U.S. But then, during a job assignment in Ireland a good friend took me to the Cathedral in Cloyne, County Cork. The diocese was founded in 560 AD and the church was built in 1250 AD. That was quite a cemetery fix for yours truly!

But, back here at home (I know, “home” is a relative term) there are plenty of cemeteries. Southport alone, I am told, has 12! I’ve not visited them all; I don’t even know where all of them are. But every now and then, when doing something else, I will stumble across a collection off in a corner of the woods, completely accidentally. It’s interesting to see where they pop up, and the residents are equally fascinating. Seems like maybe families decided to create memorials to themselves for safekeeping. Sort of private places where folks hoped to look after their own.

This week’s photograph was made recently at the big cemetery divided by Route 27 adjacent to and across from the Old Firehouse in Boothbay. I wasn’t on a cemetery walk at the time, but I couldn’t neglect the beautiful maple tree so prominent in the beaming autumn sunshine.

The same sun illuminated the many headstones that fill the property. When the spirit moves you, it might be an interesting tour. There is much to be learned from our past.