Mt Angel is this little town in Oregon – about an hour from Portland – that always reminded me of the town where my mom grew up. It’s German. It’s Catholic. You see the Catholic church from miles away – even before you see the town.
What else do you do on a rainy, RAINY day? Yeah, go for a drive and take photos while trying to keep the rain from ruining your camera.
But, I do like what I got – Mt Angel Abbey – a Benedictine Monastery. Benedictines are a Roman Catholic order that follows the Rule of St Benedictine which is about communal living – peace, pray and work.
The little cemetery is filled with identical crosses marking the graves of the brothers and fathers who died at the abbey. The markers go back to 1900. I liked the way the light was shining through the trees and onto the cemetery.
And periodically, there would be a rosary draped on the marker. This one had three – and was on one of the oldest ones.
Probably one of the funniest things that happened as we were driving up to the abbey from the main road was when I noticed this pathway near the road. People were walking along it – out for some exercise. We started passing these little huts. After the third one, I said “oh, the stations of the cross”. G looked at me like I had just grown horns. “Somewhere above us, my grandpa is saying ‘well son-of-a-biscuit, something did stick with those non-Catholic grandkids!'” was my response. G started laughing because you could hear my grandpa making that comment. Then I hear out of the back seat, “What are the stations of the cross?” We were looking for a German restaurant to stop at to eat sausages and have a beer in his honor – but it was Sunday. Nothing was really opened. Yep, just like the town my mom grew up!