Well, I grew up next to an "abandoned" cemetary. It was my wonderful playground. There were flowers that grew wild, a beautiful cedar tree. My dad would mow it from time to time, and we would watch for signs of vandalism. I would have ratted on any vandel in a heartbeat. There was a large buckeye tree and a large Mulberry tree, and a large black walnut tree also. You could pretend that the graves were forts or castles, or climb the trees, or play softball in the small field at the bottom of the field. I didn't pay much attention to birds back then, but it was a wonderful place. An when you grow up with the concept, it kinda de-traumatizes the whole concept. It's just a "natural" part of the order of things. Perhaps as a result, I was never upset when my grandparents "went to heaven". I loved them, but it's just what happened. I was sad to hear that they were sick or suffering, more than I was to hear that they had died.
One fascinating memory I have of the cemetary is of about 4 or 4 boys parading by, carrying a large "black snake" of some sort over their heads. I'm not sure if it was dead or alive, but it was at least 6 feet long, probably more like 8. Were such snakes ever found in Ohio? Or does my memory deceive me? Anyway, the cemetary was a beautiful place for a child to play. There was a creek along one border of the cemetary, and that was perhaps the best part. I used to build dams, catch minnows and crayfish, and excavate blue clay to make pottery, and look for interesting fossils in the gravel. Of course I turned my hands black trying to get the husks off of the walnuts. I would spend hours in the mulberry tree picking and eating mulberries, and come home purple. When I was a little older, 7 to 9 years old, I would follow the creek upstream into the woods where I found a paw-paw patch (of yore), and a pair of waterfalls that would turn to ice sculptures in the winter, and a hickory tree surrounded by buttercups, and moss carpeted glade overlooking the cliff above the waterfall. That was a wonderful time. I wish we could still allow our children to roam free that way...