I’ve always had a fondness for cemeteries. They’re some of the most peaceful places to wander. Even in the middle of a busy city, a cemetery gives me space to think. I’ve spent hours walking among headstones, not because I find it spooky or tragic, but because there’s something grounding about it. I look at the graves through three lenses: art, history, and writing. 

For anyone unfamiliar with the term, taphophile comes from the Greek taphos, meaning “tomb,” and philia, meaning “love.” In basic terms, it means someone who’s fascinated by cemeteries, grave markers, and the ways we remember our dead. It isn’t about morbidity; it’s about appreciation. There’s artistry in the carvings and architecture. There’s history in the stories behind every surname and date. And if you’re a writer like me, there’s inspiration literally carved in stone. I’ve found more character names walking through old graveyards than staring at any baby name website. It’s hard to beat the authenticity of the names etched there. 

My comfort in those locations might stem from being surrounded by death most of my life. It’s not desensitization, but acceptance. Cemeteries remind me that death is ever-present, just as life is. As I walk through the cemetery closest to me, I hear the city. Engines revving, kids playing outside, dogs barking. But there are no complaints from the residents beneath my feet.  And there are also the comforting sounds of leaves rustling, birds singing, and squirrels chittering. 

Do you ever visit the dead, not for mourning, but for reflection or creativity? I’m always curious how others experience that same stillness, and whether it sparks something for them the way it does for me. Cemeteries offer me a connection with the people who came before, but also with life happening all around me in the present. 

If you’re a fellow taphophile or share the same curiosity about death and remembrance, let me recommend a quirky little book that fits perfectly with our interests: Rest in Pieces: The Curious Fates of Famous Corpses by Bess Lovejoy. It’s full of fascinating stories about what became of the bodies of well-known figures, including that of a raven thought by scholars to have inspired Edgar Allan Poe to write a certain famous poem. Turns out, the raven’s name was Grip. Fascinating stuff. Or I should say, gripping! 

Yours from the graveyard shift,