Late-Day Light Through Stones

“Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs.
I am haunted by waters.”
-Norman Maclean, A River Runs Through It

My husband and I met a family member for a very fancy seafood lunch at Red Lobster in Altoona on this day, and on our way home, we stopped for a short hike at Fort Roberdeau. The fort, built in 1778 during the American Revolutionary War, is located near Altoona, and it is sometimes referred to as the Lead Mine Fort. It is on the national register of historic places.

It was a beautiful sunny afternoon, and I admired the fort itself from the parking lot. Then I walked a little trail through the woods, enjoying the views of (and from inside) the several reconstructed wigwams that line the path.

There is a point where the woods path crosses a little wooden bridge, and prior visitors have constructed cairns of rocks there: many structures, in many different shapes and sizes. I viewed them from several angles before deciding that this was the angle I liked best, with the bridge behind the structures and the light shining through the stones.

I took a lot of photos during my visit, but somehow I keep returning to this monochrome shot. It has a peaceful feeling that settles me when I look at it. (And yes, it was indeed quiet there during my visit, except for the cries of birds overhead.) There are textures to it that I find somehow pleasing; timeless. And the light from the left seems almost . . . painted . . . on everything it touches.

On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops.
Under the rocks are the words. . . .

Listen. Can you hear them? In the silence . . . I almost think . . . I can.

The song to accompany this image is Neil Diamond, with Stones, from Hot August Night.