Even the steps look like they’re taking their time here.

The path ahead was marked by uneven stone steps that seemed to have emerged naturally from the earth itself. Each step was damp and speckled with moss, as though nature had tried to reclaim them but stopped just short of erasure. I paused to listen to the faint trickle of water weaving its way between the rocks. It was oddly comforting—a sound that felt eternal yet fleeting. The air carried a hint of something sweet and sharp, eucalyptus perhaps, mingling with the earthy scent of wet soil. I crouched by the water’s edge and dipped my hand into the cool stream. The clarity of the water was startling; every pebble beneath its surface stood out as if etched in glass. The walls of the gorge seemed to close in slightly here, their towering presence both humbling and protective. This place felt like it had no need for us—its beauty was entirely its own.