A fractured chuck of loosened slate slices through the placid lake and slowly dives towards the bottom, zig-zagging back and forth, like a feather gracefully gliding through the air, before disappearing into the murky blue depths. Tiny dirt and dust particles broken loose from the slab of slate are suspended effortlessly just below the surface layer of the water, floating steady like an aquatic cloud, dispersing every so gradually, the slow movement difficult to even discern with the naked eye. Concealed hundreds of feet beneath the surface of the cool blue water, a coral reef of twisted metal and sunken machinery remains as a discarded boneyard of quarrying paraphernalia.
Frayed and jagged steel wire reach up from the darkened depths like the stalks of steampunk seaweed. Corroded hoists and pulleys rusted jammed dangle from the tops of precarious cliffs high above. The machinery never to be used again, merely awaiting the moment when the bowels of the blue water below will no doubt swallow them whole as the screws and bolts holding them in place corrode weaker by the day.
Quarry cliffs spray painted with faded names and obscene figures scar the mining pit walls like modern hieroglyphics. As the hot afternoon summer sun begins to tire below the horizon, rays of light flood the blue water, momentarily illumining the ecosystem of industrial creatures which live below. A piece of reflective tape placed across the dismembered arm of a flooded excavator still glistens as the mighty bucket now scoops only water. A warped pile of bent junk steel creates an underwater nest for which the newly adapted sunfish so playfully swim through. Massive chains once used to lift slabs of slate weighing hundreds of pounds from the bottom of the quarry pit now sleep along the leaden muddy bed of the flooded quarry, turned lake. Like eels of industry the chains quickly disappear beneath the muck. No sooner does a thick cloud momentary extinguish the sun's rays, turning the lake back into an opaque tub of blue ink.
Just across from where I am perched, a group of teenagers are jumping from the tops of the cliffs, plummeting with a playful splash into the treacherous waters, full with industrial piraņas. The fearlessness of youth is indeed joyful and contagious, as I walk toward the edge of the cliff and anxiously peer down, wishing to be incapsulated by the cool water below. However, I know that if I were to become entangled within the chain-like tentacles of the sea monsters below I'd never see the light of day again nor would I be the first youthful snack devoured and lost within the murky blue.
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