In spring a gentle rain fertilized the newly upturned earth. Light breezes planted seeds and sprouts in the dirt, and tender stems reached into the air to unfurl delicate petals.

In summer the sun baked the earth, and no wind could cool the burning stone slab. Plants grew around the base of the monument, large and dry.

In autumn the cold wind carried dried leaves over the trampled grass, growing in a pile around the stone to cover the withering and rotting plants.

In winter a frost covered the stone and snow fell, layering over the remains of the leaves, and for a season everything was peaceful.

But nothing could affect the grave. Nothing can hurt the dead.