You At Once Notice That The Stream Is Lined With
Glacier Polished Rocks, And That Somber Evergreens Cling
Tenaciously To The Bank Or Ledges Above The River, Wherever They
Can Gain A Foothold.
"How hardy they are, like the virile tribes
of the North, healthy and flourishing in an environment where
less vigorous species would perish."
At the opposite side from us there had been a landslide and many
evergreens had met their death, yet a few now clung to the small
portion of rocky earth they still had, like determined Belgians
to hold fast their rightful heritage. Out among this scene of
partial desolation a great hawk circled and added his eerie cry
to the lonely place, announcing that we were not the only
watchers in this wild domain. A great blue heron rose slowly
into the air and flew across the stream, breaking the silence
with his harsh squawk. "Here," we said, "is a quiet nook away
from the rest of the world. No need of a monastery here where
reigns such perfect seclusion and the charm of its natural
scenery makes it a place in which to dream."
Slowly you walk along the embankment opposite the falls, now
gazing at the amber sheet of water nearest you, now listening
for the voices of the other falls, again stooping to note the
beauty of the delicate harebells along the rocky ledge or
pausing reverently to listen to the songs of the birds coming to
you pure, sweet and peaceful above the song of the falls,
speaking the soul of the delightful place.
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