Ferndale Cemetery

Ferndale California is a small village near where I live. Founded during the North Coast's redwood logging boom of the late 19th Century, it is known for its picturesque Victorian era buildings. Dairy ranching is the mainstay of the area now. The village proper attracts many tourists and occasional film crews, but my favorite place is the cemetery. The main gate stands right behind the former Methodist church, and extends up the hill, ending under the shad of redwood and spruce trees. High up, the cemetery sports lovely views of town and the Eel River valley.

In August, friends and I descend on the county fair in some semblance of Victorian garb, and spend the afternoon at the horse races. This year, my beau Thorne and I first visited the cemetery. It was fun to be unintentional "ghosts of Ferndale past", getting stopped a few times by other visitors to have our photographs taken. Eventually we asked one of them to use my camera to take a photo of us.

 The obelisk in the photo above is clad in tin or some other metal. It seems to be an economical way to get good detail, plus the markers tend to survive better than stone.

I don't recall seeing sickles on any other headstones, but the symbolism makes sense. Considering the number of Irish immigrants to the California north coast, I am also surprised to not see many harps.

There are a number of weather-worn wooden markers. Someone has taken the time to find out who is buried there, and have remarked them to some extent. Others don't seem to have ever gotten a more permanent marker than that provided by the mortuary at the time of burial.

Lichen and moss have their way with the stones.

Family participation provides beauty and poignant looks into the deceased and their loved ones.