Full of wonder

One May day, on the theory that I might be getting bored with grandbaby business (as if that could happen!), Ella sent me looking for the Bohemian National Cemetery. I'm good at getting lost, but they've made it pretty easy to spot if you can get within a mile . . .



As I drove in, it looked pretty much like your average nice, old cemetery on a lovely spring day.



As I walked around, I felt like I'd stepped into The Orange Fairy Book or the land of the Ents.




Who were these Bohemians? What was all this tree symbolism? Broken trunks and limbs (life cut off?), lots of ivy, and here and there a squirrel or so.


And what about these with their hefty, hefty anchors?
Were they riverboatmen, or did they go off to sea?

After a stroll about the cemetery, I found a parkland a bit farther on. In the woods were a pair of placid deer who looked me over with the barest flicker of interest. I was glad they didn't disturb the bird on the branch near me. I was trying to see which of the warblers it was when it hopped a little closer, tipped its olive-green head down and flashed a brilliant red-orange patch as if to say, "Hi! I'm an orange-crowned warbler! What are you?"

That's my idea of big-city fun. Chicago really does have whatever I'm looking for.