One of the best places in Buffalo is the Forest Lawn Cemetery. It's old, it's beautiful, and it is one of the quietest places in the city. If you've never wandered around an old cemetery, you should give it a try. It's not creepy, I swear. One time I even went on a date to the cemetery. I probably should have married that guy because not only did he share my affinity for the cemetery, but at one point we were standing in the huge indoor mausoleum laughing pretty hard at some of the crazy objects people had left as permanent displays. I like to get my inappropriate self out of the way as soon as possible when wooing men.
Forest Lawn was one of the hardest hit areas during the October snow storm, as it is home to many of Buffalo's biggest, most majestic trees. In the days following the storm I could barely look at the cemetery as I drove past. The damage was extensive and I found the broken trees extremely heart breaking. (And yes, I recognize the irony of wandering around a cemetery and mourning the trees. That's just how I roll.)
Well, thank God for spring. The trees, while still visibly injured are at least covered in leaves. Today, for the first time since the storm, I had the stomach for a bike ride through Forest Lawn. I'm not going to lie, a lot of the cemetery does not feel as magical without the canopy of leaves, but there are still many big trees, and it is nice to see signs of life on those poor amputees.
Here is a good example of how many of our trees are looking this spring. These trees lost almost all of their branches at the trunk, but it looks as though they will survive in spite of being reduced to mere torsos. Many times during the winter I attempted to photograph the damaged trees, and ever time I wound up feeling extremely depressed. As sad as these guys look now, I can't explain how psychically soothed I feel to see them covered in greenery. I am certain that looking at battered and broken trees for six months has severely worn me down. I always love spring, but this year I feel a palpable sense of relief.
I'm not sure what you call these house-like buildings. I like to call them hobbit holes.
I do want to take the time to say one more thing: When I die, for the love of sweet baby Jesus, don't bury me in the ground under a rock that says "wife".
When I die, you should burn me up and toss me over Minnehaha Falls. After that I don't really care what you do, but I recommend that you enjoy a blue sno-cone in my honor. If you want, you can have a barbecue and play capture the flag, but please clean up your after yourselves, the park is for everyone to enjoy.