Upon my most recent visit snow blanketed the redstone quarry’s cliff and open sections. I can’t help but to think slightly of snow white (red and white mixing with the darkening sky) and of what is to come of the Redstone quarry in winter. I imagine the hibernation of the squirrels up in the trees, and the beginning of ice forming on the edges of the pond and over the tiny stream. As I sit hearing the wind run through the trees I look down and think about all the years I am standing above. All the years embedded in the Redstone, the history of time separate from me by the soles of my shoes. I begin to think of how young the growth is on top of it. The growth that filled in after the mining period of this location. How the water must of worked its way in. How the pond formed because that section of the Quarry was dug into just a bit deeper than the rest. I wonder what the future holds for the spot, what growth will come, what new life will inhabit the area, how long the redstone will be exposed till broken down by wind and water into soil. I feel the years behind close and the possibility of the years ahead powerful. Remarkable where thinking about nature will take you.