I ran/walked (Ralked? Wan? Eh. Just not as catchy as brunch) from my house to B’s Antiques today. That is 2.62 km one way. Whoa – I didn’t think I had actually gone that far – very impressive Susan. Hello LiveStrong, give me more calories to eat!
I drive by the “B’s Antiques” sign all the time, and often wondered “How does she make a living being a good 8 kms out of town?” Today – to save myself from aggressive drivers on Highway 10 – I turned down her road. B’s husband makes Maple Syrup too, so while I was dragging my jowly butt up Lynx Line I could smell the wafting scent of sap becoming syrup combined with burning wood. Is there a better smell? I suppose if I was a syrup maker and had to stay up all night in a tiny syrup shack stirring sap, the romance of the scent would wear off quickly.
When I got home, I checked out their website because my curiosity was piqued. What kind of place is this to be? But it looks like a place I would love to visit – and we might just have to do it this weekend.
“You’re not afraid of cemeteries, are you?” asked Nancy. Well, um, no Nancy, not cemeteries, but maybe zombies, or cultists who sacrifice creatures there. She asked me this about three days before I moved into her house located beside Pine Grove Cemetery. Good thing I am not. In fact, I often walk through them – looking for the older sections because I find it peaceful and somewhat removed from me in current times. The newer sections the grief too close; too recent. Flowers are left to wilt, signs and pictures are left to sog, and I can feel the loss in the air. I like the old cemeteries because the grievers have died themselves, and you can see physically that time does really take the edge off grief. The moss covers much of the ground, the memorial’s edges begin to gently round, the stark words fade. A more gentle reminder of those who lived before us.
I had never explored Pine Grove Cemetery before, so as I finished my run, I decided to swing through. Pine Grove is long abandoned, in fact, I bet very few people even know it is there. But someone must regularly maintain it. I cut through and read the scant number of headstones – all of them pre-1945. Some lived long lives, some did not. How did 12 tombstones gather at this place?
Private W. T. Broadbent’s marker of the 122nd Battalion CEF, caught my eye. He died in 1916 (presumably in WWI action), but yet someone had somewhat recently built two wooden signs with “Lest we forget” and poppies. There is a fresh looking Canadian flag pressed into the earth, and rather weather damaged artificial flower. Who is coming here to remember someone who died almost 100 years ago? Why? Are they connected? Do the Broadbents still live in Muskoka? Did W.T. have children before he died? Could it be his Great Grandchildren?
March 28, 2012 Extra-Ordinary: A Run with Purpose: A new destination to visit and Remembrance with a Mystery.