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I hosted a writing camp this summer! It gave students some inspiration and gave me a little warm-up on getting back in the school groove.

Yesterday at Writing Camp we took the campers to the cemetery. This is an annual tradition and there is a reason. It is beautiful there.



At the last minute, I brought my camera. When my camera is in my hand. I start to see things I might not have.

Like these sweet offerings on a large headstone.


Or this tiny piece nearly hidden in a woodsy area.


I meant to snap the flowers, but look how the light is catching on the cross here.


There were many lambs. These were the saddest ones.


Another offering.


This is my son's first year at camp. Here he is writing in his notebook.


Beauty among the Hostas and grass not reached by the lawnmower.


Another baby.


But could there be humor here,too?

Some kids thought so.


As we were leaving, we came across these two women. The kids all went ahead, but I stopped to take one more snap of a beautiful black stone with a guitar etched in it. As I moved on, the women asked me what we were here for. So I explained who we were. They asked why I was taking pictures and I explained that we'd been here last year, and I remembered how beautiful it was. And how much I loved discovering all the gorgeous artwork in the headstones.

"Will you take a photo of ours?" They asked.

"I'd be honored," I said.



They'd been crying.

"It's beautiful," I said after I took the photo. "Just beautiful."

"It's his birthday. He would have been thirty today."

"I'm so sorry for your loss," I said.

"Thank you," they said.

And then I ran to catch up with the group.

But all the way back, I wanted to turn and run back down the wooded path. I wanted to tell those women I really am sorry. They weren't just words.

But they didn't need to hear that.

I just needed to say it.



I took close to 100 photos yesterday. I decided to make a slideshow so I could share them with the campers today. If you're int