It sits at the bottom of a large canyon; a collection of rocks, and rubble. My dad likes to walk through those ruins. It’s good exercise, and there’s lots of fresh air; a nice excuse to get out of the house. And it’s fun to explore the city where the gods used to live.

Even in decay, and partially flooded, it’s still quite the view. Cavernous temples carved from stone, where the gods held court. Ancient skyscrapers cut from marble, stretching all the way up beyond the clouds. And the abandoned chariots, scattered across the enormous cobblestone roads, adorned with ornate carvings and symbols; gigantic vehicles, built for giants, and pulled by monsters.

I went with my dad a few times when he walked through the ruins, and the thing that always struck me was the statues. Or what was left of them. None of them were complete anymore, just chunks and pieces sprinkled all over the ruins of the city. But even these broken pieces were something to behold.

I remember a square where once stood a statue of an ancient warrior. All that remained of that warrior was his sandaled foot, collecting moss on the pedestal. The foot was the size of an African elephant, and carved with such immaculate detail, you could mistake it for the real thing from a distance.

There were other bits and pieces of other statues spread about: a leg here, a hand here, a stony sword sticking out of the ground, like Excalibur waiting for King Arthur. All large and magnificent.

“Were the gods really that big?” I asked my Dad once.

“A few of them were.” He said. “Most of them were a little shorter, but all still very large.”

“Did you ever see any of them?”

My dad shrugged. “I saw a couple of the last ones, but they weren’t that big — eleven or twelve feet tall at the most. They were cool, but not like these.” He pointed to a decapitated stone head, lying on its side. The figure’s mustache was probably twelve feet alone. “These guys were monsters.”

“Were people scared of them?”

“Only the bad ones, but the good ones usually kept them in check.”

“Do you miss the gods?”

He nodded. “It was nice having them around.”

“Why?”

“Because they were bigger than us. More powerful. Nice to be reminded that there are things in this world that are grander than just what’s happening in your everyday life.”

Dad looked a little sad.

I said, “We still have the city.”

“For how long?”

“I don’t know. But we still have it right now.”

He smiled a little. We walked for another hour, then went home and watched a movie.