Three Hundred Thirty-Two

This morning, for reasons beyond my ability to comprehend, I am thinking about the decomposed granite we bought to fill the spaces between the flagstones of our patio in Dallas. The flagstones were hard sandstone, the sort of stuff that weathers relatively quickly; I expect they will not last one hundred years. The decomposed granite, though, came from stone that weathers over many thousands of years so that, finally, it is sufficiently brittle to be crushed into gravel and dust.  I wonder what will become of those flagstones and that decomposed granite in the next thousand years? It’s safe to say I won’t be around to know.