Cemetery

It's always unnaturally quiet getting in the car after visiting the cemetery. The cemetery itself feels quiet, but the difference between the noise of the wind, the birds, and the insects that carry on unnoticing and the empty silence that presses on your ears in the car is unnerving. Thoughts of life and death that took over conscious thought as you brushed grass clippings from the headstone are displaced by the need to locate the correct key, turn the ignition, put the car in gear. It seems wrong, somehow, yet equally wrong to interrupt the new silence with the radio or a conversation. But of course, that feeling of displacement can't last forever. Eventually you start driving away.