Well, I'm posting this on Memorial Day, but I actually took the pictures yesterday on our trip to Ouray, Colorado. We were invited to celebrate the HS graduation of a cousin's daughter, so we also took the opportunity to stop at the cemetery where Paul's parents and other family members are buried. It's called Cedar Hill Cemetery and the land it sits on used to belong to my husband's grandparents. Their homestead is across the road from the cemetery. These pictures are not in chronological or any other logical order; that's just too much for my brain to take on today.
We drove south out of Grand Junction, and there was rain off and on all the way to Ouray. Here are the still snowy San Juan Mountains as seen from Ridgway.
We arrived early, so we killed a little time by driving around the outskirts of Ouray. This is the Uncompahgre River that flows through the south side of town. The roar of the high rushing water was deafening even from this distance, so I'm thinking that the people who live in those houses have it for a constant background theme until it slacks off in summer. I suppose you'd get used to it after awhile.
At the cemetery, it stopped raining long enough for us to wander around a bit. This grave marker belongs to Martha Cresto (who was no relation to my husband, I just thought it was beautiful) and is dated 1869-1910. I love the carvings on it; especially the drapery on the side.
One of the roads that meanders through the cemetery. The lilac bushes were in full bloom, and as many times as I've been there, I didn't realize how many of the bushes were lilacs. There are lilacs everywhere, all different colors, and the scent when I opened the car door was heavenly....
This little plot has a charming wrought iron fence around several graves. The two tall markers seem to be for people who lived and died in the late 1800's to early 1900's. The information on the left one is in some language other than English, possible Austrian, as I believe it states the person was born in Austria.
My husband's parents' marker. The poem on it was written by his mother. It's called Peace and reads:
I have rejoiced
In every day
Loved life most well,
Holds no qualms for me
For if God's love
Has made this life
So rich, pray tell
How unspeakably glorious
And on the way home, again rain. The clouds were very dramatic at times, obscuring the mountains and offering little openings for the sun's rays.