The memory of landscape

In the woods there are often small, physical, reminders that for over a century it was the grounds of an asylum.
A piece of Victorian drainage pipe, a small shard of patterned ceramic. Sometimes it’s a larger memory like this old collapsed sandstone wall. Its outline still visible even as it’s reclaimed by nature.
The hands that must have touched that wall over the years, or the people who just passed along it as it guides them to the gate. All long gone too.