Who knows us?

How can we know how many people are currently here with us? The artifacts we leave to the world will almost certainly pierce someone's heart at some point in time. Who can know when and how? And who can know how strongly?

The other day, I remembered a location in my home town of Boulder, Colorado on the back side of the summit of Flagstaff mountain. I could see the entire range of mountains from that viewpoint in my mind. I could see them just as clearly as if I had been there; no, in fact, I could see them more clearly than at any time that I had actually been there.

I'm certain that, during my moment of recollection, anyone physically present at that place on Flagstaff caught a glimpse of me standing there out of the corner of their eye. Then they told themself that they were seeing things and went on about their day.