A dear friend of ours brought us to an old grave yard hidden away.
Not many people know its whereabouts.
Its small. And quaint. and perfect in every way.
We were walking and reading some of the stones in quiet, when we came across one very striking one.
We read it to ourselves...
And just as we all read how she died by lightning, it started to rain.
Ever so lightly it came down while we stood there in awe.