Another in the very large file of Things You Don’t See Everywhere.

Go to a Texas cemetery of any size and of an older vintage, and you might well see one. While in Houston, I made my way to the Glenwood Cemetery, which isn’t far from downtown.

Expansive, slightly rolling but also partly hilly, and chock-a-block with stones for the departed.

Pretty lush in the spring or summer, but earth tones take over for the winter. Glenwood Cemetery is Houston’s rural cemetery movement cemetery, opening in 1871 and since becoming the permanent residence of citizens of the Republic, but also assorted mayors, governors, business men and other Houston notables, including those with the scratch for some sizable memorials. Some monumental.

Others more artistic.

Goyen is an angel, looking rather not like one you might see on a Hallmark card. Below, looks like St. Michael body-stomping Satan.

A large section of the cemetery, among the hills, uses artful bricks and intricate layouts and other features to convey old money – as old as Houston’s going to get, anyway, so we’re not talking about the Rothschilds.

All very nice, but it’s good not to overlook more ordinary folk.

Including the usual sort of sad memorials you always find.

Well worn by time, but you can tell it memorializes a child.