aqueduct - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
The aqueduct was a monument to the creativity of our ancestors, of they who wanted a river to flow in midair over a valley and made it happen. They dreamed it and built it and there is stands today, so many hundreds of years later, perfect pillars of rain-engraved stone.
The aqueduct was like one wall of a long forgotten palace, the perfect arches rising high into the sky. Through each one was a glimpse of summer sky, like a divine window. It was enough to make Harry whoop with delight, being in wide open space always had that effect on him. Freedom - worth any price.
Lara skipped over the aqueduct like it was a smooth road, her little red shoes dancing over the weathered rocks. She always looked right ahead, always knew she would make it just fine, and she always did. The girl was a born gymnast without ever having seen the inside of a gym. That was her divine gift, the gift of sure-footedness.
The aqueduct rises from the ground like a strong oak, robust in any wind, indifferent to any storm. After eons of weathering it is only more beautiful, only more admired. Painters come from near and far, attempting to honour her beauty in oils, yet none come close. The real thing is always more enchanting. In winter the stones are cold, in summer they bask in the golden rays, but always they stand proud on the earth, magnificent, conjuring well earned awe.
The aqueduct is a fine structure, impressive in the early summer sun. The arches support one another, each offering firm "shoulders" to the one above. In the quiet of the day their achievement can be heard, the kind of gentle applause only moving water can make, sweet music cascading from a baby-blue sky.
Back in the day, the old aqueduct had been described as a feat of human ingenuity, now it's little more than a very attractive pile of rocks. You can still see some of the old arches, stretching upwards in defiance of gravity, but it's obvious who's going to win that battle. It's a popular spot for picnics and artists, but I haven't been down there for years, not since the murders.
There was a footpath that crossed the aqueduct, but you had to have quite a head for heights to cross it. It was as far down to the rocky valley below as from a five storey apartment complex roof and the wind wiped around you something awful. But if you could stomach the journey it shaved hours off the walk from Tarina to Seriona.
The last rays of the setting sun shone through the arches of the old aqueduct, casting a long shadow over the road below. No water could be seen from below and as such it had a surreal look when a canal barge would glide across.
The aqueduct was roman. It was three layers of arches on top of one another and across the top flowed the water.