The sound of the waterfall striking the ground below echoed through her imagination. She tried to picture this place a thousand years ago, when the church was still new. Would the rock face have been that much different, then? Would the waterfall have been no more than a trickle? Would people have lived and worshipped here?
The presence of the church implied that the last of these, at least, was true. What would its congregation have been like? In the grand scheme of things, in the lifetime of the rock face and the waterfall, a thousand years was nothing.
For human beings, however, a century could make them unrecognisable from one another. Perhaps not so much in appearance, but certainly in custom. A thousand years ago she would never have been allowed to sit here, in her shorts and hiking boots. More than likely, she would not have been allowed here alone, given her age, which would have made her marriageable then, and increased the fear for her reputation. Of course, a thousand years ago, that reputation would have already been in tatters if she lived as she had.
She smiled to herself, taking a sip from the water bottle at her side. A thousand years for change, and much of it had happened in her mother’s lifetime. Maybe people didn’t move that much faster than the stone after all.