Turning homeward, we navigate west through Youngstown, to a snarled snafu set for us by Cache Owner Blink12oz. Placed on October 31, this weeks-old baby cache is due for a tummy tickle.
A mural of life, hope, and family floats by in jubilant bubbles.
Our GPS closes in on a corner, inside a fence. With a bright blue table, the store next door promises to define who you are.
Making our way around and inside the fence, we enter another place where individuals are uniquely defined. Last messages of honor and grace name those born across the seas. Now they are the deepest roots of next generations, for whom this land will not be new.
A recent cacher records that both sets of grandparents are interred here. In this most sacred of places, we pause to respect.
And then to wade through the wet leaves, always a sentence of doom on finding a cache. Add pouring rain, and the sentence compounds to ruination and expiration.
Was someone suggesting giving up?!? With feet soaking, hands shaking, and teeth rattling, as rain turns to snow, we tuck baby back to sleep.
OH Love Of Geocaching 