The stone building sitting on top of the hill stood as a lone silhouette with the backdrop of blue sky. A stairway of flat white stone with intermediate patches of gravel and dirt on the not so steep parts ran up the rocky slope to it’s entrance. Along each side the plant life in browns, yellows, and greens grew sparsely around the hill in a colorful patchwork.

Grey stone made up the building with it’s slate roof. It was worn and showed it’s age. I can imagine it being some medieval outpost or maybe it was a shelter for a shepherd who watched from above as his flock grazed upon the side of the hill.

It had two doors, one arched on it’s long side next to the only window in the structure. The window itself arched looking like a miniature version of the door itself. On the short side stood a larger door arched but coming more to a point at it’s pinnacle instead of the nice rounded finish of the side door. there were a few small stairs leading up to it. From this side it could appear to be a small house of worship if it only had some sort of adornment to characterize it as so.

Men raise these structures throughout history and it appears they live so much longer than the men themselves. Did they realize I would be writing this about the product of their labor so many years after they had passed.