About me

Thursday, October 27, 2011

Beneath our feet in Charleston

We generally rarely know what lies just inches beneath our feet. Life has scratched out an existence on this planet for a very long time, and we moved in only recently.

Regardless, we were working in Charleston several weeks back, and we had the unexpected pleasantness of an afternoon off. This just doesn't happen often, and when it does, we're often in a place where there's little opportunity to get out, even if there is someplace we might want to see.

Charleston has seen occupation long before the English landed, but we don't have much record of that, and I found myself traipsing through the hallowed grounds of where those early settlers left their dead, many of whom were children. Here, we knew what was beneath our feet. Bones. Lots of bones. Probably buttons, buckles, and other fragments of human existence.

The question, then, is what lays beneath those feet. We might never know.

Yet, life goes on. It always does. The bodies ascend by root and limb. The leaves return. The flowers bloom. The bees sniff. The honey collects. The toast is served. The child grows. The adult dies. The progression continues.

Here, we see a small part of that progression.



And over to the side.



These guys live in the filtered sunlight, and they certainly do not feed on bullshit. Well, at least not until my old bones rest here.