Listen carefully on a frosty night to the boulders flexing their muscles. Passing on the dank and peaty thrust of the fellside thighs. The stones span the darkling river pool, amazed at their tense flight from earth. Each takes his share of the dance and laughs quietly in gravity's face. Cottongrass sway in the wind on the hairy rump of the hill.
Two hands on the ejector seat... The fence posts of
grubby reality have to be checked and rechecked every day in case the magic forces burst them asunder, When all comes down to all we are all alone on this planet spinning at X miles a second through the abyss of space and time. So what's one to do but cling to whatever you can in the maelstrom, be it God, love,
your stamp collection or a stiff drink. Have faith in love. Have faith in the flow...the ice cold spume that falls night and day.
The rock walls hold the sound of the ever cascading water..seems forever. But even here as I stand at midnight the water is ever so slowly cutting finite whispers of stone and rock spinning them as sands ever downwards. Here look closely..the eye plunges
to electron and atom and sees millions of particles sweep and swirl away.


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Matty Benn's Bridge
The ancient bridge over a tributary of the River Calder is also known as the Monks Bridge from its links to the nearby Calder Abbey. The bridge is located to the east of the busy Cold Fell road used by thousands of commuters to the Sellafield nuclear plant.