Ideas often come alive for me at strange or inconvenient moments. After the ever-trusty shower, I usually feel the most open to creativity when I am…….

walking amongst graves. My husband and I are lucky to live a few minutes from the second largest cemetery in the United States. Established in 1845, it is equally an arboretum, with 15 lakes, trees, flowers and wildlife set within what, at times, looks like traditional parkland.

It’s easy to see this as a wonderful picnic spot, no? All that is missing is a retro basket and a checked cloth.

I was seriously compelled to roll around in the blossoms! Instead, I held my husband’s hand and let my mind wander…..

to mortality and, from there, poetry (thus the Dickinson of the title).

Amidst a hectic city life, and an obsessively active and creative mind, I often feel as if I am being pulled in 972 simultaneous directions. A stroll through the cemetery is meditative, almost holistic in nature. It’s definitely a peaceful, uplifting experience.

Since The Queen City is so hilly, a walk is really more of a hike; this view goes on for days.

With structures like this, daydreaming is as easy as a blink of the eye. No wonder The Muse visits me with such regularity when I am here.

[“Unable are the loved to die, for love is immortality.”] Each visit brings its own set of thoughts and questions, which often turn into writing prompts; self-inflicted prompts often lead to essays or short stories. I wonder why there is no death date inscribed on this grave marker? In avoidance of a sadder truth, I’d like to think that Catherine is immortal.

The seasons each have their own beauty, which unfold in such divergent ways. The second day of Spring offered up a vibrant palette represented here by already lush green grass and golden flowers.

[Insert Weeping Angel joke here for my husband and Whovians everywhere.] The statuary and monuments are works of art (history), as many techniques, eras and movements are represented.

The 1,200 species of flowers, shrubs and trees are magnificent and varied. I am drawn to the imperfect as well as the beautiful; this gnarled tree is lovely! The knot evokes a lovers’ embrace. I’m not a romantic, yet I see nothing but longevity and tenderness here.

[Sorry about the oddly pixelated quality of this image. I actually think it almost looks like a painting.] [“A word is dead when it is said, some say. I say it just begins to live that day.”] Some stories are never told while the dead are living. Creativity is like a prayer, writing is a remembrance; both give voice to those who are gone, or never quite were. [“I’m nobody, who are you?”]

All quotes are from Emily Dickinson.

All photographs are by me, using my Blackberry.