After running into an old friend while strolling down Journal Square’s Newark Ave. I was advised to journey further to the landmark cemetery known as Harsimus. Since my days as an adventurous 8 year old. I was always intrigued by cemeteries. If my fading memory can recall. My first excursions from my home base of Jackson Heights into the fabled town of Astoria were through a cemetery know as St. Michaels. 
Though fear and the anticipation of being wrangled by grave robbers or a satanic cult have since diminished. The feeling that the hills have eyes has not totally diminished. So when I heard about the goats of Harsimus Cemetery. I was happy knowing my suspicions were indeed true.
After a long walk in 84 degree temperatures, I finally came upon Harsimus. And though I did my share of searching. It wasn’t until I asked one of the groundskeepers that I was able to find what I was looking for. As I stood at the top of the hill, all I could see was more cemetery. “A hoax” I thought. One of Big Foot proportions. Finally, a head poked out from one of the monuments. Staring at me with an innocent curiosity. I gathered myself and readied my best possible goat calling skills. Before you knew it, and despite the fact I sounded more like a sheep in goats clothing. I was suddenly welcomed by a community of adorable goats. After a short goat talk I was able to gain their trust and even got them to pose for pictures. I’ve included a few favorites in hopes of getting more people to visit and experience some of the unique treasures that are right at our doorstep.
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