Final photos of 2024. I do like images of people doing things rather than stood arouind gawping at stal. Portraiture is well neglected in caving images. I just liked his grim expression as I was larking around doing nothing other than get in the way. Note the little red dot from the camera focussing which I could have cloned out but its part of the story. Anyway there is a poem to go with it.
Through narrow gaps where shadows dance,
We tread the depths in a daring trance.
The boulders shift, the echoes sing,
A symphony born of stone and spring.
With Mike Wise steady, his lantern bright,
We carve through the dark with grit and might.
Each swing of the pick, each scrape of the spade,
A path through the ancient earth is made.
The air is heavy, cool, and still,
Yet alive with whispers, a haunting thrill.
“Here lies history,” Mike would say,
“Buried deep, where the brave will stay.”
Fingers trace where time has etched,
In sediment layers, eons stretched.
A fossil gleams in a crevice tight,
A story locked in the pale moonlight.
Through trials of stone, we laugh and strive,
Our spirits bound, our senses alive.
For in the depths, where few will tread,
We find the spark where dreams are fed.
With grit on our hands and fire in our souls,
We dig for truths in forgotten holes.
For in the cave, with Mike Wise near,
The world above seems distant, unclear.
So let the rocks and the echoes tell,
Of journeys shared where shadows dwell.
With Mike Wise digging, bold and free,
The cave becomes eternity.
