We strolled through an ancient graveyard in Saltzburg, Austria as I suddenly spotted an old weathered headstone dated 830. I looked again in astonishment to be sure that I saw it correctly in the fading light.
The sun dropped low in the sky behind clouds that had just rained giving the area a melancholy feel. The wet grass, blooming flowers, and crumbling graves surrounding an ancient stone church in the middle of the bustling metropolis felt surreal.
I wondered about this man whose name was partially eroded by centuries of weather.
Who was he? What did he do for a living? Was he married? Have children? Grandchildren?
He once, as a little boy, played with his friends. Perhaps enjoyed his children. Maybe lived successfully.
Then he passed on in time and no one remembers.
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