Do you ever think about how these other forms of life relate to time, and how they interpret its passing? Still, in the end, nothing is immune to the disease of chronology. Time washes over us all, yet weathers us at different rates and to different extremes.
It is a place that is somehow incredibly somber and oddly comforting at the same time. It is secluded and peaceful, as cemeteries should be I suppose. I think I’ll be buried here one day, too.