Perfectly straight rows of arch-top white granite stones chiseled to conformity to one common denominator: NAVY. Walking through trimmed green Florida grass the stones array in their rows like the sun throwing down gold rods. The interred lay their mark here as a stepping stone from here to there. Flowers and hammered out names and numbers are the only anticonformity; red, white, blue, yellow and green pedals and black letter-shadows catch the peripheral.
The maticulous up-keep demand deference. Never have I seen such respect for the dead.
