Before the days of sprawling, multi-acre cemeteries that are now such big business, it used to be that there were small family cemeteries. Sometimes they weren't just for a single family that shared a last name, but a church family that worshiped together and grew to care deeply about one another. For that reason, many of these small cemeteries are located in churchyards. And so it is at Cabin Run.
Far off the four-lane, out a road called Sunnyside (isn't that a pretty name for a country road?) and then out a little further than even that, you'll find a rough little road that's about a lane and a half wide. A short distance on that road (and you absolutely must know where you're going or you'll never see it) you'll find a gravel drive that takes you to the Cabin Run Church and Cemetery.
I wish I had a before picture to share with you. Before the congregation had moved away. Before many of them were carried to the little cemetery behind their beloved church. Before it was sold and remodeled and used as a weekend retreat. Before the satellite dish, too. ; )
I did find this photo, pre-vinyl siding, and it gives you an idea of how it looked before.
Isn't it lovely?
There had been only a few things done in this pic, so this is more the way it looked when I first saw it. I used to tell The Hubster how I would love to have that old church; to clean it up for weekends in the country and lazy summer getaways.
What a wonderful place to enjoy the peace and quiet.
What a wonderful place to write. : )
While we were there on Friday, the skies opened and a cool spring shower began to fall. This didn't stop Tucker and The Hubster from placing our flowers, though Perri and I chose to remain under the canopy of the shade trees.
One day this summer we'll be back up there, visiting family, and we'll revisit Cabin Run as well. I'd love to have pictures of the family headstones and share some of the really old ones with you. I've always found old cemeteries to be fascinating. Reading the birth and death dates, imagining the stories of those lives that filled the years in between.
Oh, the stories that are held within the confines of that fence...
Just imagine.