While I was online checking what turned out to be an empty mailbox, I saw a headline about the Iceman. When I was in the eighth grade, the Iceman was discovered and his story fascinated me ever since. I'd been shown a PBS Nova documentary about the discovery of the Iceman in school, and it completely and utterly fascinated me. I thought it was so cool that this non-mummified body stayed intact for thousands of years in the Italian Alps, waiting for someone to discover it. The latest article said that researchers had figured out what killed the Iceman; he hadn't simply frozen to death, but bled to death in a glacier in the Italian Alps.
Irrelevant information to an everyday person like myself, but I can see how determining the cause of the Iceman's death would be helpful to historians, archaeologists and even those in the field of medicine. I took a minute to consider what it would be like to be involved in discoveries of this size. To be in the presence of a corpse, dead for thousands of years, insignificant and forgotten by the era it belonged to, yet turning into a beacon of light today. Do spirits survive thousands of years? I wonder if the Iceman is watching his body get poked and prodded. I wonder what he would think. Does he think we're crazy for placing so much importance on little old him? Or is he flattered? Or is he just as fascinated by us as we are by him for being so interested in things he and his people overlooked?
No one emailed me. I feel like the Iceman.