Graveyards are interesting places. Of course they can be full of stories and myths, and inspiration for stories and myths. Countless people have talked and written about them in countless ways. They always work nicely for photos too. As I drove to Danville, I remembered there was a graveyard that I had been wanting to shoot for some time. So I stopped by and shot there for a while as the sun slowly descended behind me. While I was there I only thought about the photos I was trying to get. But as I write this I start to think about the actual graveyard. All the headstones, trying to hold memories of the people that are buried beneath them. Each stone, carved with a name, trying to hold the memory of that person here on Earth. Trying desperately to not allow them to be forgotten. But how many of those people are forgotten? Think of all the people that have lived and died. Eventually they will be forgotten. No one will remember them. All that’s left is a name and date. And even the stone is temporary. They only prolong the inevitable oblivion. Here are two stones, two monuments. Old. The names worn off. No one to remember the two buried beneath.