It was the first time I saw someone come to visit
a grave. An older woman in a heavy coat drove by,
then stopped. I had been photographing reflections of
snow and sky in the highly polished granite, and I
didn't realize what was taking place until later.
The woman sat motionless, looking out her window,
down at the grave. After awhile, she drove slowly away.
I don't think she ever noticed me; it was not my
intention to invade her privacy. But in looking at
the unprocessed photos, I remembered being deeply
moved by the moment. So in respect, I wanted to share it.
This was an instant that the cemetery was really for
the living after all.