A cemetery is a tranquil, intriguing place………..in the daylight. It can be a serene place to walk, a  peaceful spot to sit on a bench and contemplate life. I quite enjoy reading the epitaphs on monuments. They run the gamut from the proverbial sublime to the ridiculous.

Receive Updates

No spam guarantee.

This one tickled my funny bone.
It comes from a  cemetery in Nova Scotia.

I had the misfortune of growing up in a house surrounded by three cemeteries: The West Head Cemetery, The Townsend Family Cemetery and a small private cemetery. This may be unique to our family.

Could anything have been worse for a scaredy-cat like me, scared of my own shadow? I was spooked walking up our long driveway alone in the dark.

Mom was fearless and wasn’t at all understanding. Then she made it worse by telling me, “It’s not the ones in the cemetery you need to worry about. It’s the ones walking around. Now stop that foolishness.”

Were evil people hiding in the cemetery? Criminals? Escaped convicts? Axe murderers? Thieves? Were they going to kidnap me and whisk me away to the wiles of Borneo?
Recently, I heard about a relative of mine who encountered a spooky situation. Uncle X believed in ghosts, ghouls and goblins and was especially freaked out by cemeteries.

“Friends” who knew this, thought it would be funny to exploit his fear. They devised a cruel scheme to hide in the cemetery until Uncle X passed by on his bicycle on his way home from work. When they heard him coming, they rose up in the cemetery making moaning noises.

In the dim light, Uncle X looked in their direction and  he saw something ―  Eeeeeek! Ghosts! Ghouls! Goblins! Were his eyes playing tricks on him? No,  he heard mournful wailing and two ghosts approaching him. He had to get out of there — on the double.


Poor Uncle X lost his mind and instead of riding his bike as fast as he could, he threw his bicycle in the ditch and ran the rest of the way home as fast as he could.

Did he ever find out it was two “friends” pulling a prank on him? Actually, I don’t know, but I am certain of one thing. From that night on, he looked straight ahead as he pedaled like the wind past the West Head Graveyard.

The private cemetery closed years ago and it is not possible to find any trace of it. The Townsend Family Cemetery and The West Head Cemetery remain, one north and one south of our Nova Scotia home and  I must acknowledge that in all of my 59 years, there has never been a single incident that warranted my irrational fears. Mom was right — there are no goblins, ghouls and ghosts in the West Head Graveyard.