The moon floats over sunset hill as we walk. Gravel crunches under our feet. Setting sun reflects in the pools. The low lights cast the fossil footprints into sharp relief, hidden among the rock-strewn beach. The cliffs seem to be caressing each other, ripples of stone on stone. Tucked by the shore’s edge, the holy well is in full spate. The ancient tree cradles the stream as it trickles past, frozen in time. At this most sacred season, the water flows again, bringing new life. The stillness rolls over this place, breath of time itself.