Once, three hundred and twenty million years ago, a Norwegian river tumbled its way across the landmass then connecting it to Scotland and turned towards Yorkshire, pushing sand and grit before it. Over the millennia, those sands aggregated to become millstone grit.
More millennia passed. Temperatures in Northern Europe tumbled: an Ice Age. Glaciers ground and eroded the relatively soft stone which had been dumped so many centuries before. Seeping water froze, thawed, froze again, splitting the rocks. Cold strong winds buffeted away at rough edges. Those rocks assumed strange shapes, balancing improbably in the landscape.
Time moved on. Man arrived, farming too, and industry. But this little patch of Yorkshire, known as Brimham Rocks remains itself, untamable, unchanging, offering a feeling of security that some things remain constant for those of us lucky enough to live nearby this weird and fantastical playground.
This is my contribution to this week’s WordPress Photo Challenge: Security