A funeral.
Been to my fair share of those. Apt description. Long after this funeral's conclusion, some of us have been scuffing our shoes against the perfectly cut grass, spitting, and recollecting old times, figuring most everybody else had already gone home. To our surprise, a few were listening to the chat from the bushes, yet to go home themselves.
Hey! I think I see someone in them darn bushes as I speak! C'mon out you!