Arlington National Cemetery is a beautifully sad place. I don't think I whispered a word or cracked a smile the whole time I was there. Except when I watched a robin rooting around in the ground for worms, and noticed a nest in the huge shade tree above me. In a place of death and grief, it was an interesting reminder that new life springs forth each year.
Many of the stones were singular and ignored, save for the daily grounds crews who maintain the surroundings to near perfection. In one segment, a lone bundle of yellow flowers stood out amongst the stark white headstones, one family who still remembers, still visits. Most of these stones are just stories now, if that.
People flocked to observe the changing of the guard and to see Kennedy's gravesite. I didn't. Instead, I wandered amongst the old stones and shade trees. It was better.
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