Necropolis Cemetery
Necropolis Cemetery has always been a place of quiet reflection, but for those who know it well, it is also alive with movement. Beneath the towering maples and winding paths, life thrives in unexpected ways; possums shuffle through the underbrush at dusk, deer wander gracefully between headstones and coyotes sometimes appear like shadows on the edge of the grounds. It is a sanctuary for wildlife, a green refuge in the heart of the city, and every day it reminds visitors that nature does not pause to grieve.
People walk these paths too, often with dogs trotting beside them, their leashes taut as they catch the scent of something wild. There is an unspoken agreement here: humans and animals share this space, each respecting the other’s presence. But harmony does not come without effort. The staff at Necropolis know this well, and they have learned to expect the unexpected.
Property workers remember one day in particular. It was a funeral, a solemn procession moving slowly along the main path. The air was heavy with silence, broken only by the crunch of shoes on gravel. Then, from across the street, came a small parade of chickens. They had wandered over from the nearby farm, clucking and strutting as if they owned the place. At first, no one knew what to do. The birds blocked the path, their feathers gleaming in the sunlight, oblivious to the mourners who stood frozen at the uncanny spectacle. Steve, the groundskeeper, stepped forward, waving his arms and calling out, trying to herd them back toward the gate. The chickens scattered in every direction, and laughter rippled through the crowd. For a moment, grief gave way to something lighter, something human. It was a scene no one would forget – a reminder that life insists on being noticed, even in the most sombre of moments.
Incidents like this one are rare, but those that happen tell a larger story. Managing wildlife at Necropolis is not about control; it is about co-existence. The staff watch for coyotes, knowing they can pose a risk to pets. They keep an eye on deer, whose gentle presence can turn destructive if numbers grow too high. They even look out for the possums that slip silently through the night, scavenging for scraps. Every creature has its place here, and every visitor has a role to play in keeping the balance. Signs remind dog owners to keep leashes tight, to respect the wild animals that call this place home. It is a delicate dance, one that requires patience and care.
Necropolis is more than a cemetery. It is a living place where history and nature intertwine, where the past rests quietly while the present lives on, occasionally in feathers and fur. Sometimes that movement brings laughter and sometimes caution, but always a sense of wonder. For those who walk its paths, whether in mourning or in peace, these encounters are a reminder: life does not end at the gates. It continues, wild and uncontained, weaving its story among the stones.
Source: Toronto Necropolis Cemetery staff
Photo: Matt Jiggins from Paris, France, CC BY 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons
