Our Drive Around Indian Valley, Part 1

One morning when we were in Indian Valley visiting Greenville last week, we took a drive around the valley up to what is called the North Arm. It had started raining, and we couldn't very well do our work of transcribing cemetery markers in the rain. So it was a great opportunity for a drive.

Along the way, we watched the tranquil scenery of a drizzling June morning pass by. The cold of winter had finally stepped aside for the green of summer to make its appearance. The valley floor was lush with grasses against the backdrop of the evergreen studded hills.

About halfway through our drive as we rounded a bend in the road, we were pleasantly surprised to see a herd of deer close to the roadside in an open corral area probably intended for the cattle that are grazed throughout the valley during summer.

We turned the car around and went back so I could photograph them. It was just us and the deer for a few minutes. For those brief few minutes, the buck and his does were serene and peaceful--undisturbed by the presence of me with the cyclops eye of my camera. Even the presence of a big fluffy cat trotting past them with a big dead mouse in its mouth didn't bother the deer. The cat trotted past the deer and ducked under the door of the barn next to the corral before I could get a photograph of him. The deer didn't care.

As I inched closer to the fence to get better shots of the buck, the deer walked slowly away to keep a good buffer between me and them. They weren't afraid of me but still weren't going to let me get really close. At any given time, one of them always had their eye on me while the others continued to graze. Sometimes it was the buck watching me and sometimes it was one of the does. I moved slowly with my head down and to the side the way any flight animal prefers to be approached. It worked.

But the tranquil mood didn't last long. A logging truck rumbled by on the two lane road behind me and startled the deer into an attentive and frightened state, which then inspired little Chica to go bonkers back in the car. The deer trotted off into the valley away from the road. Some turned to stop and look back at me in curiosity.

I got back in the car, and we continued on our way.

Not too far up the road we encountered another group of deer alongside the road. This time the grouping was significantly different. They were all bachelor males without any females among them. Were they hanging out biding their time until one of them would be strong and brave enough to challenge the buck we had met earlier? Or were they a rough-and-tumble bunch that was newly out of fawnhood more like a group of 16 year old boys than mature bucks willing and able to watch over females of their own? They seemed less concerned about me than the first group. Ah, boys! So sure of themselves and so full of bravado. You gotta love 'em!

Remembering...

On Monday morning my mom, Hubby, Chica, and I piled into my mom's Jeep to make the 3 1/2 hour trek north into the northern forests of California. There in a small tranquil valley named Indian Valley is the small town of Greenville. It's the town where my mom and her sisters grew up (the youngest was born there). It's the town where they all graduated from high school. It's the town where my Grammy served as a postal carrier for Indian Valley. And it's the town where my Grammy and Grampy's mortal coils are buried in Greenville Cemetery.

Why were we making this weekday trek to Greenville?

Both my mother and I are avid family history researchers, and in my mother's latest online research at USGenWeb she discovered that no one had transcribed the headstones and monuments of Greenville Cemetery although a lot of the other cemeteries in Plumas County have transcriptions available online. After contacting the USGenWeb coordinator for the county, my mother volunteered to take on the task. Hubby and I were her recruits to assist her in the task of writing down all the vital information on every headstone and grave in the cemetery. The three of us systematically spread out over the cemetery, and after a day and a half, we had completed the job.

The work of transcription in this cemetery was quiet work filled with the beauties of nature. The cemetery is spread across a hill under the sheltering limbs of beautiful evergreens and large decidous trees. The sun filters through the branches onto the cool green grass that surrounds the dignified headstones and monuments while summer bugs flit about on the cool mountain breezes. Robins, jays, juncos and other birds summering over in the mountains hunt for insects in the grass after it has been watered. Grey squirrels chase each other up and down the massive trunks that stand as pillars over the hill. One would not expect to find such beauty in a cemetery.

During our time there, I took the time to shoot some photographs to capture the essence of the tranquility and natural beauty that exist there. It is a very fitting setting for so many loved ones that are now at rest--many loved ones whom we knew and loved personally.

The older stone edifaces had such wonderful texture. The craftsmanship that went into decorating each monument was evident. Many over a hundred years old, were aged with moss. I couldn't help but see the beauty.

Fresh flowers, many probably cut from the town gardens in the valley below, graced numerous graves. Most of the cut lilac blooms had long since wilted, but the stalwart bearded iris blossoms continued to show their beauty. So many fresh flowers baskets and vases were throughout the cemetery, even on the oldest graves. Someone remembers them. And hopefully, after our transcriptions are added to the USGenWeb databases, many more will remember them again.