I hadn't meant to finally stop at the sad, neglected little potter's field today; I've been meaning to do so for many years, since I started driving past it every day, but just haven't. About a year or so ago, they opened a new apartment complex that had been built right up next to it, and a few weeks ago (as posted here), I got this opening line in my head: His apartment looked out over the graveyard.
But today as I was driving by, I saw the eagle spiraling around the Butte again (as I had yesterday), and I pulled over to see if I could catch a shot of him. HE disappeared, but there I was. So...
This shot was taken about halfway through, past all the simple ID discs set in the gravel to show where the graves are -- from this point, there are actual stones, largely with nothing but a name and date of death (if they were lucky), and possibly their age:
This desolate potter's field was opened some time in the early 50's, and closed to new burials in 1992. An equally sad story about same.
This may be the "Jane Doe" referred to in the article... that's a broken statue of St. Francis beside her, and someone's broke cell phone.
Someone cared enough to outline the grave here, but the headstone has fallen in and I couldn't see the name:
Danny's third-floor apartment balcony, looking out over this:
For some reason, this one really got me:
This afternoon Silhouette won't eat -- at all. Even sour cream or chicken skin. He's crouched on the rug not making any noise (an improvement from being curled up on the bathroom rug in the dark). I'm worried about him. I know I won't have him around much longer, but being faced with the inevitable is deeply worrying. He briefly came to ASK for food, but wouldn't eat anything once given to him (even when he did his usual beg at the table, it was very lackadaisical).
And I don't feel very good, anyway. I did work out this morning, but not to what I have been; I hope I'm not coming down with something.