discovering tranquility: how to enjoy a peaceful picnic in a cemetery (2024)

Bibliomancy from Hollywood Hills:

When I walk up to the cemetery gates, a rush washes over me, a bit of frenzied activity towards the entrance. Limos and hearses line the curb, as if I’m arriving at an event. It takes a minute to get my bearings. Am I in the way? Am I about to see a celebrity? A dead celebrity? Should I have dressed better? It’s a little overwhelming at first.

I continue walking down the main drive and am drawn to the giant trees, holding their own with the ubiquitous palms. I notice a giant tombstone peaking over the hedges in the yard - “Getty.” Estelle Getty? From the Golden Girls? Confirmed. It’s going to be a good day.

*Side note: Run - don’t walk - to estellegetty.com to visit a Getty Blog, a “Getty Gallery,” details on Golden-Con (thank you for being a fan), and most importantly, to buy your own Sophia Chia pet that you didn’t know you needed.

The further I walk, the calmer it gets. Such positive, cheerful vibes. Fresh flowers perch pristinely atop immaculately maintained plots. No sign of wilting petals or overturned plastic vases here.

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The towering palm trees, wind skirting the fronds against each other, create a pleasant flapping under the sunshine, like sheets hung up to dry. Smells of freshly cut grass, reminding me of lazy summer days with no agenda. Countless clovers! I never get to see clovers!

I press my hands down into a stone fountain with the most beautiful cherub angel dancing in place, one toe poised as if about to test the waters.

A sculpted bird and mouse look on nonchalantly, the angel’s stalwart sidekicks. The water cascades and bubbles buoyantly below.

The sound of the water flowing, the wind chimes and birds singing, makes me feel like I’m in a guided meditation. I grip the stone and close my eyes and feel the sun on my face. Behind my eyelids, I see what might be my aura shifting from deep orange to gold and back. I feel it expanding. Connecting. Healing. Giving as well as receiving unconditional love.

I feel the energy of the sun deeply. It feels soothing and comforting for once. I think of all the places I could have gone today, many of them dark and mysterious. Perhaps my soul needed to relax instead. Perhaps I needed some light.

Birds sing cheerfully while the squirrels frolic everywhere at once, darting up the bark of a nearby tree. An unexpected peaco*ck swaggers amongst the headstones, occasionally demonstrating their grandiose feathers, artistic feats of heroism. A giant orange tabby cat runs by, on a mission. I heard once that animals are drawn to cemeteries because they are free of most humans. Because they are safe.

Whirring windmills harmonize along with the tinkling wind chimes throughout, adding to the magic of this place. It’s so light and free and uplifting, it’s possibly the most joyful place I’ve ever been.

The mausoleum feels like a greenhouse, steamy and full of life. A couple times I hear loud bangs as if someone is adjusting a stone but when I go to investigate, there’s no one there.

I hear loud dripping and can’t find the source until I notice leafy plants spilling in through cracks in the lavender glass ceiling. Intoxicating scents of gardenias and orchids transport me back to childhood.

I am drawn to a bust of a smiling effigy. I look closer and see that she’s the lively and hilarious “Love Goddess” herself, the comedian Judy Tenuta.

Exiting the mausoleum, I’m greeted by a baby granite Steinway and a giant sarcophagus belonging to “ the Piano Man.” The lyrics “I did it my way” scrawled across the top to corresponding music notes.

The peaco*cks escort me from the premises, strutting proudly amongst the graves. As much a part of this place as the headstones and tombs. Here they are both mascot and muse.

Hollywood Forever Cemetery is taking away the stigma of socializing among the dead. They seem to be just as famous for the events here as they are for their celebrity residents, hosting regular concerts and film screenings and an annual Dia De Los Muertos festival.

Picnicking in cemeteries became very common in the 19th century when so many were dying due to epidemics and war. Today the taphophiles are growing in numbers - it’s no longer a taboo or frightening place. As a cemetery volunteer, I often see people walking or jogging through the grounds, sometimes visiting someone or just stopping by for a quiet place to think.

Cemeteries are where our loved ones are placed to quite literally rest in peace. These souls were loved and cherished enough in life that someone went to the effort of planning and paying to bury and memorialize them forever. They weren’t forgotten or lost in death, as so many others were. They were found and claimed and taken care of. It’s a powerful sentiment. Why wouldn’t they be tranquil?

a little business:

This week is beyond special because two of you, dear readers, upgraded to my first paid subscribers! (Yes, it was my parents. But they still count! Thanks Mom and Dad!) When I first told my parents that I wanted to start talking to dead people more, they took it completely in stride and said “Let’s do it right now!” They are the epitome of supportive.

Because she is my first paid subscriber, my mom got to pick the topic for this week. She asked for a post about a cemetery, and of course I was happy to oblige! This was such a charming retreat back to my happy place.

I don’t have a lot of subscribers yet (I’m working on it, ok?) but for the first few who upgrade to paid, I would be happy to let you choose a topic for a post. I am considering other possible perks for paid subscribers, so stay tuned.

I am always simultaneously terrified but beyond grateful to have a place to share my stories with you. A place where hopefully you start to feel comfortable sharing your stories as well. Scary spooks and ghouls have nothing on vulnerability.

Thank you for being here and being part of this journey.

-Dreary Dendrophile

If you liked this post, please click the heart or re-stack icons, or leave a comment below. Engaging in this way helps encourage new readers, and I would absolutely love to hear from you! You can also send me stories, suggestions, and feedback by emailing drearydendrophile@gmail.com.

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P.S. If you made it this far, here’s a video of a dispute between a bunny and a peaco*ck: