This may come off sounding strange but here it goes. I like going to cemeteries. Even when I travel abroad or even domestically, I visit a cemetary (albeit often of note).
There is a weird sense of tranquility and beauty seeing the names of those long gone. Seeing some beautiful headstones as well as very simple ones.
In Brooklyn, I recently got the chance to visit the Green-Wood cemetery which is 478 acres built in 1838. It is quite impressive and even more so considering it’s in the middle of a city.
The greenery is alluring to the point that people actually make a day of going to the cemetery, including picnicking.
Walking through the cemetery was a moment of zen in a very hectic world. Of course, none of my family members are buried there thus the grief that often accompanies one at a cemetery wasn’t there in my being at the moment. Although, I did pause to reflect on my mother and how her ashes are with me keeping me company.