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I often tour graveyards when I travel. I admire the artwork, sculptures and historical storytelling. In college, I’d retreat to an historic graveyard next to our dorm to meditate or study.
I love beautiful spots in Atlanta’s Oakland, Crest Lawn — and Westview, where my ancestors are and where I’ve specified my ashes be scattered (and also at a favorite music festival).
This month, I was walking around Minneapolis’ gorgeous Lake Calhoun and was drawn to an adjacent cemetery on a wooded hill. Amidst the Pillsburys, Humphreys and Lindberghs, I gleaned a city’s history and just a bit of its soul.