Camp Croft is home to some excellent old bridges.

They traverse both the Fairforest Creek...

and its various tributaries.

They speak of an earlier age...

an age before both World Wars.

Remnants of an old gristmill lie along this creek.

Slobot went to take a closer look.

He marveled at old stone structures...

particularly this little dam,

over and around which water coursed ever so gently.

Slobot reclined in reflected and resplendent sunlight.

Downstream Slobot found these ancient abutments.

Upon them Slobot leaned...

and he pondered upon the gaping maw of time...

and upon Kronos consuming his children.

Memento mori.