During my August raft trip through the Grand Canyon, I hiked many side canyons and saw countless gorgeous waterfalls. One day, when the group had split up and gone off in several directions, some hiking and some napping, I wandered down through a narrow side canyon to admire a waterfall. But as I stared at the waterfall, I noticed something strange. A hand appeared, waving to me through the spray. Then a foot. It was Storyteller Boatman, who had somehow climbed behind the waterfall.
Of course, I had to try this myself. When I got to the base of the waterfall, I could see a little mossy cave right behind the rushing water. Storyteller Boatman showed me how to climb up through the water and pull myself onto the slippery ledge. The crashing of the water was so loud that we couldn't really talk, but just smiled at each other through the spray.
Looking out, all I could see was water, churned white, pouring down. The cave was cool and wet from spray. After hiking all morning in desert heat, up high rocks and across narrow paths in hot sun, it felt wonderful to sit behind the waterfall, just soaking in that coolness.
Sometimes now when I am in an impatient mood, I think of that cave, that niche, that cool shady spot where I was able to sit quietly for a bit, out of the stream, and let all that rushing, churning water tumble past.
6 comments:
It's paragraphs like the one that closes this post that make me visit you several times every day, just to be sure that I don't miss anything.
I've been transported to your waterfall - I swear I can smell the water and hear the crash of the water.
I love reading this blog.
Ah, jo(e). Thank you!
I've gotten to go behind waterfalls just a few times in my life; very memorable. Thanks for evoking those memories.
This is perfect because I like to visit different waterfalls because the sensation we can get is incredible, I feel so free like a bird flying over the clouds.
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