I was in the local cemetery. It sits on prime real estate on the slopes of Mount Royal. A road snakes up the hill through woods. One section is home to the graves of fallen soldiers - these are from the second world war. While in other parts of the cemetery, the graves are more haphazard, here they are lined up with military precision. Even in death they stand at attention.
Other stones are half submerged in snow, the inhabitants buried twice over. But above life continues. Birds flew over, enjoying the bright sunshine while a red fox trotted through, stopping now and then to leave his scent. It is a peaceful place, good for a meditative stroll.