Words + Images

Finding the waterfall was Steve’s idea.  He remembered it from an earlier hike that we had done in the Fells in autumn.  When temperatures recently plummeted into the teens (and that’s before adding in the wind chill factor), he said, “Let’s try to find it again.  Imagine the ice!”

Usually, I am quite game for such adventures, but this time, after a long drive and a long hike to get to the place we kinda-sorta-thought the waterfall was (but it wasn’t), I found myself  silently cursing as we struggled up a cliff, slid on ice hidden beneath snow, and snagged ourselves in thorny thickets.

The light was fading fast, and coming in at odd angles over the hills and through the trees.  I was cold and not happy for lots of reasons.  But, then I paused to take a sip of water.  A glimmering on the land caught my eyes.   Upon closer scrutiny, I realized that what I had first assumed was simply more ice on rocks was in fact a stream.   Beneath a thick, clear glassy seal, its waters ran swift.   We followed those waters to where they eventually cascaded over rocks as a waterfall.

For a while the cold was forgotten as we  took photos.  But when I could ignore the cold no longer, and had to jam my hands in my pockets, I just stood in the woods, and listened to the waters running.  It was a beautiful sound.

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