The Bridge and the Valley

A simple writing exercise I did to test my descriptive skills - especially since I want to be able to depict visual beauty as clearly and descriptively as possible. Meant for review/critiquing.

   The ground, patched with clumps of wet grass amidst the mud, dipped down, falling deeper and deeper into a massive yawning canyon. The light falling rain ran its way down the slope, pulling streams of mud and loose pebbles with it. Even as the ground fell away the half-paved path continued, transitioning into an arching stone bridge that spanned the full distance across the canyon " several hundred meters or so. The path along the bridge kept perfectly parallel with the horizon, while the underside arched up sharply in the middle in order to support its own weight (as well as the weight of traveling persons). A one-meter high ledge running along each side did part to prevent careless crossers from falling over the side. Across the bridge the rolling hills continued, on and on with nothing but snow-tipped mountains in the far distance. Only one soul for many leagues presented itself, disturbing the calm rainfall.

   The Knight’s boots rang out noisy “clomps” as he trod across the bridge slowly, out of the mud and shrubbery and onto the stonework. The muck from his boots left thick footprints that were beaten down by the rainfall and soon only muddy puddles of water among the stone brick seams. Strong armor hiding his skin glistened from a coat of rainwater, rough fabric sneaking out from the cracks between the plating hung soaking and heavy. The drizzle pit-patted on the top of his helmet lightly, the water almost able to cleanse the blood from his iron garments. But not quite.

   Halfway along the construct The Knight turned his head slowly, eying through his helmet slits the world that sat almost hidden at the bottom of the ravine, which spanned on and on through the countryside until out of mortal eyesight. Unlike the rolling hills far above, trees grew in the down below, tall and lush. With every rainfall gravity pulled the wooden giants’ life sustenance down to them and the other things growing in that place. Ferns grew wild and uninhibited, so large to be visible from The Knight’s distance. Occasionally bright colors blurted out among the browns and greens, places where patches of flowers managed to survive. Few flowers were to be found up above. The Knight kept his steady pace even with head distracted, visually capturing the greenery that lived in the canyon.

   After the several minutes required to conquer the bridge, The Knight thrust his boots into the mucky path once again, driving his legs so as not to lose his momentum he had gained on the bridge. He halfway turned and sought to view the lush valley once more, but across the bridge it was not in sight, the sharp drop-off obscuring the more peaceful-looking land below. Slowly regaining his forward stance, he caught his breath and pushed forward, his slow, strong strides only few of the uncountable left still. He kept his head up and his vision straight, racing malnourishment with every second. It was a battle he had to win, lest he fail to wash the blood from his armor.

Author's Note

I would definitely like as much critiquing as possible! I am willing to hear whatever I have to in order to improve, so by all means roast it if it's no good (Hypothetically! I'm confident that this is a halfway decent piece of writing).
(512 words)

Reviews

[Foster L]

Very descriptive.
My suggestion is to perhaps elaborate on the second paragraph. I felt when I read the bit about his footprints turning into muddy puddles, I was given the impression that this could possibly act as a symbol of the Knights isolation. Something like:
"The muddy footprints the Knight left behind were quickly beaten down by the rain. Disappearing as quickly as they came, and with them went any evidence that the Knight had ever walked the lonely path."
Of course this is just a suggestion,if you wanted a way to give even more depth to the piece. None the less some well written work.

[Stan Lee]

I have no criticism! Really enjoyed this, though it took me a little bit to figure out what exactly was happening. My favorite descriptions were:
The Knight’s boots rang out noisy “clomps” as he trod across the bridge slowly,
and
The drizzle pit-patted on the top of his helmet lightly,
Thanks for sharing! :)