This chapter explores the creation, use, and transformation of a piece of land made sacred in Winchester, a small Cathedral city on the edge of the South Downs National Park in the South of England, UK; West Hill Cemetery. Established in 1840, West Hill Cemetery (hereon West Hill) was at one time the main cemetery for Winchester’s residents, home to a large Anglican chapel, and a smaller chapel for non-Anglicans, then known as ‘non-conformists’ or ‘Dissenters’. Today however, the site is closed to new internments and the few extant memorials belie the circa 22,500 bodies buried there. Once a well-kept space where the dead were laid to rest with solemnity, from the 1920s the site became a local embarrassment overtaken by brambles, and in the 1950s was taken over by the City Council. Today it functions as a busy thoroughfare linking the University of Winchester to the city and train station, and is a green-space where local folk walk their dogs and wildlife thrives. Sadly though, whilst the sacrality of the site is largely maintained by those who visit it, in a few quiet tucked-away locations more secular affairs take place; the occasional drug-deal is conducted, and as evidenced by discarded mattresses, and empty beer cans and vodka bottles, late-night revelling occurs. By exploring the history of this piece of land, and by examining the perceptions of some of those who make use of it today, this chapter will consider the geography of a semi-urban graveyard in terms of its initial creation, use and reuse, over the past circa. 180-years.