Always there, within your sight Never reaching, despite your fight What am I, just out of reach As you stand alone, on the beach

I have six legs but cannot walk fast, I live in a hill that is built to last. I march in a line, I’m tiny and black, I carry a crumb on my sturdy back. What am I

I am a spice that comes from a flower. I am as red as I can be. I'm also VERY expensive by weight.

Frozen fractals drifting down, From the clouds, yet make no sound. A frigid blanket on the earth, To chase away near a hearth.

I'm not a blanket, yet I cover the ground; a crystal from heaven that doesn't make a sound. What am I?