The grass at the top of the hill was greener than any I’ve ever stepped upon. I inhaled the crisp air rather deeply as I climbed up and up until I could peer out over the edge where the land and sea met the sky beyond me. I was rendered utterly speechless by how each blade of grass appeared to be glimmering in the sunlight, as if flecked with gold. A smile crept across my face that was wider than the ocean below me. I felt like I was meant to be standing there, looking out at the world.
I will never forget how humbled I felt as I looked down on the charming Northern England streets from the hilltop of Tynemouth Castle and Priory. It was nice to feel so small, looking up at what’s left of the immense structures once inhabited by people of royal standing. I couldn’t help but wonder who had lived there, died there. Many tombstones were sprinkled across the lawn beside the old church that read names of people who once were. I traced over the names “Dorothy and Charles” with my fingertips and couldn’t help but imagine them and the life they might have shared. I hope they were happy.
My friend whispered to herself how eerie it is that one day we’re all going to be nothing but dirt. But I kind of like the idea. Even though Dorothy and Charles were probably posh royalty, there they laid. Six feet under. Nothing but dust, just like everyone else. I felt comforted by the realization that we’re all just flesh and bones. One day we’re going to become the salt of the earth, maybe giving life to beautiful grassy hillsides like the one I stood on.
I hope that one day in hundreds of years from now someone will stop to read my name when I’m nothing but a pile of dust under a headstone. I hope they think about the life I might’ve had and hope I was happy. And the sun will shine upon their face, and they will know that I was.