I hadn’t planned to stop here. I was chasing light, and at first, this angle felt too enclosed—too static. But something in the rocks to the right drew me in. Their layered age, their posture… and then, almost imperceptibly, their faces. Weathered and solemn, they stood like ancient sentinels, not just guarding the gorge beyond, but bearing witness. There was a quiet presence to them—an impression that the land wasn’t simply shaped by time, but had acquired memory. The red slab leaning above felt precarious, like a held breath, adding tension to the stillness. This image, for me, is about patience. About pausing long enough to realize when the landscape isn’t performing—but simply existing. Watching.