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| Stone floor laid in the 11th century |
Sometimes I like to look at the landscape, wherever I am, and I let my eyes blur and my mind imagine the people who must have stood at this very spot, these exact longitudinal coordinates, over time immemorial, looking at the same spot, shading their eyes from the same angle of sunlight.
When I'm on the east coast of the United States, I wonder where people may have camped in the pre-dawn of North American history - whether they took shelter under the same woodland trees I can see on the far hill, whether they bathed in the river I'm driving over.
When I'm in Phoenix, I look at the craggy red rocks rimming the Valley of the Sun, and I wonder how many people before me have loved the way they cling to the sunlight at the end of the day, and the way they so reluctantly give in to shadow and night, only to eagerly await the sunrise the coming dawn.
And now here I am in Spain, and it's a playground for imagination and wonder. Last week I was walking through a castle fortress, less than a mile from my house, whose foundation stones were laid in 1050 A.D. I walked over to the Roman amphitheater, and looked at the well-preserved bowl-shaped stadium seating, just like we have today. Who carved these stones? What did it feel like, smell like, sound like to chip them away day after day?
Did they wonder, from their vantage point, about me from mine?
Poetic.
ReplyDeleteWonderful wonderful. What rich thoughts. Do you ever wonder about future travelers in the same spot, in the same way? I think it's interesting how we tend to treasure the past but forget the future. I suppose it's hard to know if there will be a tomorrow, but there certainly was for the Romans...here we are.
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing. I have done this as well.
ReplyDeleteGreat way with words :-)
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