Transition from fells to Mountainside is stark;
Suddenly the air is sharp-
Sinking temperature;
Silence - total silence;
Gone the chatter of the larks
Muted, the white dots of lambs far below,
Simply the scuff of tread on stone, The crunch over stems of spent heather
And steady deliberate breath;
As the angle changes
And the mighty outline
Of sandstone rocks juxtaposed
Is exposed;
An eminence in angular form
Towers above
And carves out the sky.

