The Key West Cemetery is probably the first one I visit recreationally. No relatives of mine are there. I hesitate: Is this okay? Just going in to look? Appreciating the stillness, the spookiness, the peace, the quiet, the flowers? Is it wrong of me to be there just gawking?
I make that first visit in the early 1990s. In fact, I visit twice: once by day, the second by night, on a motor scooter, flying past roosters and drunks and graves. The world is a little more relaxed back then, not quite so fenced in. Graveyards by day, by night—they’re okay to visit, even thrilling. I learn we needn’t be so somber when contemplating the dead. It’s just the next phase.
The animal tenants don’t seem to mind sharing their space.
I keep making visits.
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