the thought occurred repeatedly that the falls could be, due to lack of rain, diminished.
I momentarily forgot about the recent storms that plagued the area.
‘The Falls’ to anyone who knows me or follows my blog is Stony Creek Falls, deep in the heart of Jefferson National Forest in Southwest Virginia.
No matter what I may see or experience from this point on, the falls of Stony Creek will always be my favorite place to go.
Where I live and play, find my sanity or cry my tears, speak aloud my fantasies and find perfect solace.
However ridiculous this sounds, they encourage me.
They were, however, full and bountiful; loud, mesmerising and astonishing.
Gloriously singing the song that never has the same words but is, without fail, recognizable.
I tried to keep one eye on my nieces, but I was so intensely focused on the falling, pooling, bubbling, laughing water that I forgot they were there.
If I were a babysitter, which I am NOT, this would reflect poorly on my resumé.
The curvy mountain road driven way too fast to the joyous shouts of my companions only enhanced the natural high of the falls.
They were formidable in their magnificence and while I am pleased to introduce my nieces to nature, outdoors, the sky as seen with the convertible top down and indescribable rock formations, the falls are mine.
They have been since the moment I saw them.
God speaks to me there; through the wind, the water, the noise, the silence, the swaying of the trees, the rocks.
He recognizes me when I am there.
I recognize myself when I am there.