Tag Archives: Bear Lake

Enchanting Waters

Mountain water whether lakes, streams, or waterfalls never fails to enchant me. It is all mesmerizing. I could sit by a stream for hours listening to the quiet splashing of water tumbling over rocks. And I enjoy peaceful lakes where the surface often reflects the beauty of the landscape. Waterfalls, however, are my favorite form of mountain water. Of course, a waterfall, in and of itself, is spectacularly beautiful. I could spend an entire day sitting next to one simply enjoying the sounds it produces as it crashes and cascades over rocks and fallen logs on its way to who knows where. I like to wonder where the water might have originated and where it might be going, and what it is accomplishing along its way. As with streams and lakes, all manner of vegetation and a myriad of creatures are sustained and nourished by the waterfall’s very existence.

So quiet. All we could hear was the occasional fish jumping.
Sackett Lake, Grand Mesa, Colorado

Rocky Mountain National Park

Invariably, my mind takes its own vacation leading me to create metaphors relating the mountain’s varied water forms to my own life’s journey. I reflect on times when my life has been as calm and peaceful as a waveless lake serenely reflecting the beauty of the scenery surrounding it. The occasional trout arching up out of the water to catch an unsuspecting insect or a duck quietly paddling across the surface may each create small ripples, but generally all is peaceful and calm.

Rocky Mountain National Park

At other times, however, my life has been like the turbulent waterfall racing and then crashing over ledges, rocks, and fallen logs as it tumbles downward. How did I end up here? Where did this come from? Where will it end? I realize I’ve had no more control over some of the events in my life than a droplet caught up in the waterfall’s descent. The waterfall itself moves too quickly and is far too noisy for my taste! I know that like an individual drop in this waterfall, I am being carried away by a power not of my own to a place not of my choosing. And what am I to do? Complain that I’d prefer to be back on top of the mountain top having only recently been thawed by the sun? Or explain to whatever powers may be that I’d much prefer being where the trout jump and the ducks paddle? No. I am where I am. And not haplessly. I, like each water drop making up the waterfall, am here to fulfill a purpose. Together with each other seemingly insignificant drop, I am part of something wild and beautiful with power beyond my individual ability to create. I am caught up in the act of nourishing the earth, smoothing formerly rough stones, feeding moss and ferns, providing a refuge for the thirsty, and a place of sanctuary for weary souls. I am precisely where I am meant to be. And I am as grateful to be part of a waterfall as I once was on the mountain top or in the placid lake. I am part of creation and am filled with purpose and joy.

QUOTES:

“Grace is finding a waterfall when you were only looking for a stream.” – Vanessa Hunt

“To trace the history of a river or a raindrop is also to trace the history of the soul, the history of the mind descending and arising in the body. In both, we constantly seek and stumble upon divinity, which like feeding the lake, and the spring becoming a waterfall, feeds, spills, falls, and feeds itself all over again.” – Gretel Ehrlich

“As long as I live, I’ll hear waterfalls and birds and winds sing. I’ll interpret the rocks, learn the language of flood, storm, and the avalanche. I’ll acquaint myself with the glaciers and wild gardens, and I will get as near the heart of the world as I can.” – John Muir

Leave a Comment

TAP or Click Below for 11 sec Waterfall Video

Grand Teton National Park. This waterfall was so loud we could feel its power.

The Trees Whisper …

We returned to Austin a few days ago from our Fall photography workshop in Rocky Mountain National Park which was led by our dear friend, Austin-based professional photographer, Kevin Gourley (Workshop Link). I had longed to take this four-day workshop for years knowing it would be superb, but it far exceeded my expectations. Each day began at dark-thirty to enable us to drive from Castle Mountain Lodge where we all stayed into Rocky Mountain National Park in time to catch the sunrise. I’m not an early morning riser and typically like a leisurely two cups of coffee before considering getting dressed, so for me to say, “Wow! It was so worth it!” is high praise. If you are looking for an outstanding outdoor photography workshop, I’d highly recommend contacting Kevin. I hear next year’s RMNP Summer and Fall workshops are already filling up.

There’s something majestic about quietly trekking up a trail at dawn to catch the first rays of sun coming up over the mountains. Although this happens every day, it’s as though each sunrise seems to lay out a welcome mat saying, “Good Morning! This day is a gift that not everyone will receive today. Use this day wisely.  Pay attention to the gifts it brings, for it will not come again.”

Sprague Lake, Rocky Mountain National Park, Colorado 6:19 am, September 18, 2021

Most impressive to me are the trees that call these mountains home. At a distance, they may appear to be somewhat uniform, but up close, the variety is astonishing. Conifers including the Douglas-fir, Colorado Blue Spruce, Lodgepole Pine and Ponderosa Pine each with their own unique shape, height, and shade of green are among the evergreens that grow thick in these mountains. My favorite tree though is the deciduous Quaking Aspen. Although beautiful in varying shades of lighter green in Spring and Summer with tiny leaves that twist on their stems and seem to shimmer in the breeze, the Aspen reaches its peak of beauty in the Fall. Greens and lime greens give way to yellows, oranges and even reds that contrast spectacularly with the deep colors of the evergreens. Sometimes, entire mountainsides are filled with these bright patches of color, and at other times the oranges and reds are only lightly interspersed among the deep greens creating a breath-taking contrast of color.

Some people dread Fall knowing it means the end of Summer and that Winter is not far away. But I love the reminder the Aspens seem to give joyfully shouting, “Look! Life may be changing, but it is still delightful and beautiful! Don’t be filled with worry over what may come. Each season has its gifts to share with those with eyes to see.”

Speaking of trees, a couple of months ago, a dear friend thrust a book in my hand and said, “You have to read this!” Because this particular friend is not prone to be quite so enthusiastic about his book endorsements, I took his recommendation and not only read the book, but listened to the audible version with Tom on this trip. The Pulitzer Prize winning, “The Overstory,” by Richard Powers is a brilliant novel in which disparate characters are impacted by trees and come together to understand and support the critical role trees play in our co-mingled planetary life. Although I’ve always been a “tree hugger,” this book filled me with a deep sense of awe for this part of creation that far predates humankind. I’d heartily recommend reading “The Overstory, but until you have time to read it, here’s a poem written by noted poet, Mary Oliver. I love her insight into this lesson we can learn from trees.

When I am among the trees,
especially the willows and the honey locust,
equally the beech, the oaks, and the pines,
they give off such hints of gladness.
I would almost say that they save me, and daily.

I am so distant from the hope of myself,
in which I have goodness, and discernment,
and never hurry through the world
but walk slowly, and bow often.

Around me the trees stir in their leaves
and call out, “Stay awhile.”
The light flows from their branches.

And they call again, “It’s simple,” they say,

“and you too have come

into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled

with light, and to shine.”

_____

So, go easy, my friends. Know deeply that “you, are the light of the world.” (Matthew 5:14)

Shine brightly in an often dark and frightening world.