I walk through a little cemetery going in to a spot I hunt. Four headstones mark where a man, his wife and two little girls are buried. The man was born in 1751 and died in 1817. He outlived the rest of the family.
I can only imagine how hard life was in those woods back then.
I keep the dead tree limbs and debris off of the graves so they leave me alone when I walk through in the dark.