We've had dry weather for 2 weeks and the falls are looking beautiful. We had
friends over yesterday for some R & R and we hiked down to enjoy them and watch the steel head porpoise in and out of the water. A few fish even tried to jump up the falls.
Years ago, Mark's dad caught some small trout in the pool at the base of the falls and transported them into a tributary further up. Eventually their fry's time came for travel and so they headed down the little creek, then over the falls and later out to sea and now, apparently, they are trying to get back home to spawn. My grandma always said "fish don't have feelings," and yet I can't help but feel sorry for them as they try to make that impossible jump. We tried to get a picture of the 18 inch to 2 1/2 foot fish flashing silver in the pools and up the falls, but our camera is too slow! It just missed it.
It is also invigorating to just sit and hear the falls roar and be mesmerized by the sunlight glinting on the water. I always now reflect on an incident that happened last spring. We had
journeymama and her family visiting and had hyped up the falls a bit to the children. When we got there, the daughter's eyes got wide in wonder, or perhaps macabre fascination, and she repeatedly said, "water... falls", and by her inflection it was obvious that to her the water was leaping haphazardly off the cliff. For her,
waterfalls is not a noun. Ahh, for childlike eyes.
Years ago, Mark's dad caught some small trout in the pool at the base of the falls and transported them into a tributary further up. Eventually their fry's time came for travel and so they headed down the little creek, then over the falls and later out to sea and now, apparently, they are trying to get back home to spawn. My grandma always said "fish don't have feelings," and yet I can't help but feel sorry for them as they try to make that impossible jump. We tried to get a picture of the 18 inch to 2 1/2 foot fish flashing silver in the pools and up the falls, but our camera is too slow! It just missed it.
It is also invigorating to just sit and hear the falls roar and be mesmerized by the sunlight glinting on the water. I always now reflect on an incident that happened last spring. We had journeymama and her family visiting and had hyped up the falls a bit to the children. When we got there, the daughter's eyes got wide in wonder, or perhaps macabre fascination, and she repeatedly said, "water... falls", and by her inflection it was obvious that to her the water was leaping haphazardly off the cliff. For her, waterfalls is not a noun. Ahh, for childlike eyes.
I cannot believe you have those gorgeous waterfalls right there on your property! What amazing beauty. Hey, we sometimes get mud ponds when it rains really hard. :)
ReplyDeleteOh! Homesick! They look so, so beautiful! And a good memory too.
ReplyDelete(But poor little fishies.)
Ok, I can't handle it; my jealousy exceeds me. I miss that warm sun. I'm mad that all the people in these pictures are watching waterfalls in short-sleeves, meanwhile I'm watching my breath freeze in front of me as I waddle around in 50 layers of clothing.
ReplyDelete