My neighbourhood graveyard

As the crows fly, this graveyard is less than a hundred metres from my
house though it is a bit longer walk to get there. Just after six
o'clock this afternoon, we were walking past it and the streetlight
was nearly obscured with leaves, giving everything an orange colour.

My grandmother, who died well before I was born, is buried there. I
think you can see her stone -- the one looming from the dark about
half way between the gate and the right side of the picture. She was
born on a February 29th, in 1880. She joked all her life that she'd
had very few birthdays. When she died in early 1944, she'd just
celebrated her sixteenth birthday.