Now, the Cliff Paintings

I have strung you along long enough.  Here are some of the paintings done by the bushmen, the San, allegedly 2000 years ago.

They used blood, marrow, fat, soil to create the paint that has endured the ages.  The cliff is somewhat exposed, and even though it is dry here, it does rain in the summer, and 2000 years of rain can do some damage to paintings.  It is a miracle of survival.

The top photo is on it's side.  It was one of our favorites, with giraffes clearly seen.  The second is a snake, whose head has faded into oblivion.

When these bushmen did these paintings, that had no idea a couple of rednecks from Alabama would be admiring them all these years later.

But these are far from permanent.  Nothing in this world lasts.  Everything fades.  Everything will ultimately disappear.  We came in a big bang, I suspect we will go the same way.  As Lewis said it,

"You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations - These are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit - immortal horrors or everlasting splendors."
― C.S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory

We are immortal, as are those around us, and we ought to consider that from time to time.

What difference does it make?  It makes a lot of difference.  Think about it.