When we started our hike up the mountainside, it was a completely different experience than a decade prior. It was rainy and damp and I was extremely conscious of how difficult the climb was going to be for me this time around, given the addition of years and weight. But I vaguely remembered the "cave" and wondered if it was still there, or if it had gotten filled in or the rocks and crumbled down and closed it up.
Sure enough, there it was, waiting for me.
I suppose there's some profound sentiment to be had about the steady constancy of nature and the passage of time, or something.
I just thought it was kind of cool to see again, like an old friend, a tangible memory.
I think I'd like to go back in another ten years and visit it again. Maybe every ten years until I'm too old to make the trip. It would be a neat collection of photos, at any rate.