The word “park” has long defined a place within an urban setting where people go to get a little taste of nature, distance themselves from noise and activity, and get away for a while from all things concrete and asphalt. There may be paved paths that meander here and there, but for the most part, a park is generally an oasis in the midst of an otherwise loud and boisterous city setting. There may be a water feature in the form of a pond or stream or maybe even both, and there will certainly be trees and hopefully lots of them to set the space apart and to allow visitors to step from one world into another for a brief escape from whatever reality assails them.

While they are, technically speaking, not parks at all, cemeteries also often provide a very similar, if not more intense, peace and serenity that a park does. Their intersecting lanes could be said to replicate those of a park, taking walkers into a quiet realm that is also often not far removed from a city or town center. And like parks, many cemeteries offer visual benefits in the form of flowers that people place at the graves of loved ones and that provide color in an otherwise bland expanse of stone and freshly-clipped grass.

Whereas most parks are designed to offer something for everyone, a cemetery does have a basic function. But by its very nature and the very reason for its existence, it is a characteristically quiet place set apart and imbued with an inviolability that is absent beyond its gates and boundaries. That world may only be a few feet away in some cases, yet a certain measure of quiet pervades and almost naturally so, as if the “locals” compel it.

While not technically a park, Laurel Hill has come to be seen as such by those who frequent it as a place to step off of the roller coaster of daily living onto a rolling terrain of serenity. A well-known and familiar Saco landmark, the cemetery has come to be a park of sorts, complete with benches and well-managed lanes, a small bridge spanning a stream, and a panoramic view of the Saco River and its adjoining marsh. A first-time visitor will notice almost immediately that this is no ordinary cemetery by virtue of its varied topographical features that open from the main road and dip toward the river in a grand and sweeping gesture.

Laurel Hill doesn’t disappoint for most of the year. From beneath its blanket of snow in winter emerges a riot of color in the spring in the form of the daffodils and narcissi that dot the grounds and that literally drip from the hillsides. Those eventually give way to large fiery red and bright yellow tulips planted in strategic locations to catch the eye of even the most casual passerby. This horticultural finery is so spectacular as to warrant a brief annual announcement in the local newspaper that “the daffodils are blooming” at Laurel Hill and that they worth seeing. Indeed they are!

As long as I’ve lived in this area, I had never visited the place in the spring until this year. I live close to it now, so there really was no reason why I couldn’t get an early start one recent morning and take the short drive over. It happened to be a warmish May day, and so, camera in hand, I took a stroll around the grounds, enthralled by all that I saw there. I’ve returned twice since, and at no time did I not find something new to see and appreciate. Not only did the flowers announce spring’s reawakening in a flashy way, but the grounds were also dotted with other types of flowering plants and shrubs whose beauty only adds to their surroundings.

Ancient majestic maple trees flank the cemetery’s main entrance road and side lanes, most of which must be a century old or better and whose girths are now riddled with the gnarled wrinkles of age that only tree bark can wear gracefully. It comes as no surprise that the York County Audubon Society considers Laurel Hill a prime spring birding site, considering the dense stands of trees that make up its topography.

My walk that first day took me to the sloping bank spilling over with daffodil yellow and along a winding path that crossed a bridge and passed under low-hanging tree boughs. A chipmunk sat, as though posing, near the stream that slices through the property, and cardinals plied the warm air with their chime-like song. It was the best of all worlds to one who ever seeks out all places serene and naturally lovely.

I plan another visit there soon and wonder what else I’ll see that I might have missed before. Despite the fact that it is not advertised as such, Laurel Hill offers enough space to walk that it would be easy to cover two miles or more within its picturesque borders. For what do we look for in such a venue if not greenery, beauty, and tranquility, all of which Laurel Hill offers in serene and spectacular abundance.

— Rachel Lovejoy, a freelance writer living in Lyman, who enjoys exploring the woods of southern Maine, can be reached via email at rachell1950@hotmail.com.