Picture a cloudy day, as if nature itself conspired to amplify the eerie ambiance of a cemetery. Here I stood, a seasoned cemetery worker with a typically level head, but on this particular day, I was inexplicably drawn into the eerie depths of the graveyard’s mystique. Among the ominous clouds and the rarity of no living soul but me on the cemetery grounds, I couldn’t help but feel a shiver down my spine. Even as I called myself silly, I admit I looked over my shoulder more than normal as I set out about my task in the graveyard.
The wind howled through the trees and headstones, lending an air of movie-like mystery to the scene. It was time for my routine grave verification duties, an ordinary task on any other day. Yet, the dark clouds and the solitude of the cemetery added an extra layer of dread. The absence of human presence intensified the feeling of isolation, making the experience all the more creepy. I watched a squirrel scurry up a pine tree, apparently not a fan of my presence in its neighborhood.
As I went about my business, a sudden impact jolted me from my thoughts and confirmed my suspicions – I was not safe. A forceful blow to the back of my left shoulder, catching me off guard.
The force, coupled with the surprise, knocked the wind out of me. I pitched forward onto my knees, flailing my arms to defend myself against the assailant.
But wait: Hadn’t I just confirmed with my own eyes that there was no one around? That I was truly on the cemetery grounds alone?
I made a sound, hoping it would travel to the ears of someone else who could help – could they hear me in the office? Probably not – it was a good 400 yards away. But I had to try. The noise, somewhere between a horrified scream, a pathetic squeal, and a cry for help, twisted in the air as my head spun to my left, eyes bulging in horror, and I prepared to lay eyes on the culprit.
And that’s when I saw the squirrel, scampering away. It was the same one that I’d witnessed just seconds earlier, climbing a tall evergreen… It must have lost its footing just as I was walking beside the trunk of its home. Instead of tumbling directly to the ground, the squirrel’s fall was broken… By me.
Laughter escaped me, a blend of amusement and relief. I took a moment to collect myself, check my shoulder, and ensure that my arm was still attached…
Yep, still there. Nothing lost but my pride.
Nature had played a whimsical prank, reminding me that even in the midst of shadows, lighthearted moments can emerge.
Suddenly I felt grateful for the emptiness in the cemetery… It meant that no one had witnessed my less-than-graceful panicked flailing.
Head held slightly lower, I completed my verification task and made my way back to the office. Naturally, I shared my harrowing tale with my coworkers. The following day when I arrived at work, the walls and windows surrounding my desk were adorned with images of squirrels captioned, “I’m coming for you, Liza!”
Cemetery work can be somber and downright heart-wrenching. That particular day was a reminder to be grateful for the lighter moments that can arise within the embrace of a graveyard.
