Every once in a while I remember a one of these my grandmother took me to in Demming wa. On hill top that was slipping away. Still a lost place because only the really old people knew of it. 30 years on I couldn't even tell you were it was. How long well we all rest before being forgotten? London has thousand of graves under well traveled sidewalls that only the ghost know of.
Life's journey is not to arrive at the grave safely in a well preserved body,but rather to skid in sideways totally worn out shouting WHAT A RUSH, WHAT A RIDE.
"Life is a tragedy when seen in close-up, but a comedy in long-shot." Charlie Chaplin