On the edge of Cragg quarry I stood

On the edge of Cragg Quarry, I stood. The freshly fallen snow glistened like a field of tiny diamonds scattered beneath morning’s gentle gaze, transforming the jagged earth into whispers woven from the purest light. Each flake, a silent messenger, had settled with care upon the rugged ground, blanketing the uneven terrain and erasing the man-made imperfections of what once was, leaving behind a pristine canvas.

I watch as the light dances, casting long shadows intertwined with white, creating a surreal play of brilliance. The sun-kissed snow reflects a tender glow, and the air—crisp and invigorating—makes each breath feel like a sip of renewal, as if drawn from the clearest spring. Yet beneath this beauty lies stillness, a hush that wraps around my thoughts, silencing even the most boisterous echoes within. It leaves me humbled—a bittersweet reminder of fleeting splendour.

Here, time stands still. The captivating blend of light, snow, and cloud weaves a transient beauty I know will remain, imprinted deep in the chambers of my heart. A reminder of nature’s duality—fierce, yet gentle. Her contradictory embrace, endlessly astonishing. The swell of gratitude rises like the morning mist, and in the stillness, I breathe in the winter air. With a tear in my eye, I find my voice—a soft murmur escaping my lips—the word “wow”, refracting like light through the snow.

Moments like these etch themselves into the fabric of our souls, urging us to cherish the transient whispers—the delicate beauty life offers in such quiet moments.