We walked to the Los Nevados cemetery, about 2 kms. out of the pueblo. A windswept hillside where the graves were planted in a disorderly jumble…the best sort of cemeteries are jumbled, don’t you think? I love cemeteries…such peaceful places, and all sorts of interesting details to look at, tombstones to decipher, imaginary stories to piece together based on names and dates…
Unlike the cemetery in the city of Mérida, where the large stone mausoleums, statuary, and ornate curly iron fences around some of the older graves, made the whole place feel baroque and crowded, the cemetery of this small mountain town (population around 700) was spare and simple.
Iron, wood, or stone crosses stand on small bases.
A few have flowers planted, but most sit stark and desolate in the dirt. The eroding hillside has pushed the graves at the very bottom of the cemetery wall, so that they lean uphill.
In the shot below I managed to include the church spire of Los Nevados in the distance…the living and dead, seen together in a rare portrait.