Necrópole de São Gens. Celorico da Beira. Portugal
This is a place where natural and human history are intertwined in an eternal embrace. Where sculptures carved by wind and rain find reflection in ancient sepultures filled with water. The Romans built an albergue nearby for weary travelers, its mosaics still covered with sand. Parts of an old road remain until today, paved with smooth stones where wooden chariots left deep tracks of time. A huge granite stone magically balances on a flat rock. The locals call it Pedra do Sino — the bell opening towards the sky. If it ever rings, the sound will burst out with a scream of the earth. To me it looks more like a flower that never fades away. Medieval tombs are scattered around mossy boulders. Contemplating the necropolis, I would rather call it peaceful than beautiful. For centuries people came here to bury their loved ones. Nameless graves are a symbol of departing and memory. The memory for everyone we lost in life. It's the place where I find silence and strength.