The cliffs seem to be competing to see who can lean closer to the river without falling in.

I followed the trail further along the gorge, the sound of my footsteps muffled by the soft earth beneath. Each bend in the path revealed a slightly different angle of the river below, as if nature itself were curating an art exhibit just for me. The cliffs seemed taller from this vantage point, their craggy faces etched with shadows that shifted as clouds passed overhead. A small wooden bench sat under a tree near the edge of the path—an invitation to pause and absorb the view. I sat for a moment, watching as ripples formed on the river's surface when a bird landed briefly before taking off again. The solitude was profound but not lonely; it felt like the world had stepped back to let me breathe.