The Last Supper

The other day, I walked by a cemetery near my house and a picnic table parked near the tombstones just under a tree caught my eye. Later that day as I took a stroll through the cemetery grounds, I noticed many fruit trees lining the roads of the graveyard, fallen apples and pears everywhere. I've spent a lot of time in cemeteries, visiting the grave sites of loved ones who have passed on, putting fresh flowers in their vases, lighting candles, sitting alone, praying, crying and reading epitaphs. Never once did the thought cross my mind to eat during one of my cemetery visits. Perhaps I was never hungry enough to indulge in this experience, but I wonder, is eating in the cemetery under the trees in poor taste? Something tells me it's a can of worms waiting to be opened.