Winter seemed like it was going to continue its hold on us indefinitely this year, reminding me of a few years ago, in 2019, when we had snow solidly through May, remaining cold through June, with summer finally arriving in July.

This year we enjoyed a few teasingly warm days which had me excited to finally plant some flowers for the hummingbirds. And then the very day I was bringing them home to put in the dirt, I drove through a snow squall. The flowers ended up taking temporary residence in my living room, peering out of my sliding glass door for days, with apprehensions and prayers that I wouldn’t put them out into the bitter mountain winds.

As though a switch was flipped, we finally snapped out of winter’s lingering grip, and suddenly it was actually spring! While we’ve had a few swings back to cooler weather, the overall warmth seems to have taken over just in time for the summer solstice. The songbirds have returned, the air is abuzz with bickering hummingbirds, and all manner of four-legged critters are out and about, celebrating in the more amiable environment.

Another seemingly celebratory voice is that of our many creeks and streams. The enduring cold held off the high-country snow melt, but now it is as though a dam has burst and the torrent has been let loose from the frozen dam, bellowing with fervent joy as it runs triumphantly through the canyons and valleys. This great force of water is once again free to continue its work sculpting the very face of the land and carving its initials into the earth for the future millennia.

This time of year finds me enjoying a bit of my own celebratory ritual, taking a short hike to one of our local treasures to sit with and give thanks for the transition, lending an ear to the magnificent voice of water’s raw power unleashed.

The Hessie watershed holds a very special place in my heart, and its crowning jewel, the falls, is home to this annual tradition. While there are many waterways where I could do the same, this distinct and mighty song resonates deeply with my soul after decades spent traipsing about in the magical valley.

A close ear discerns a rhythm as the tumult cascades over great boulders. This rugged beat brings cadence to my steps as I wend my way through the thick pines along the banks of the churning flow on my climb to the great granite shelf from which spills the main waterfall.

The spray of mist rising from the rushing cataclysm carries a refreshing chill that awakens my body and mind to the basso aria echoing through the forest. Each step carefully placed among the wet rock and roots of elder pines is a step deeper into my soul as well as forward towards my goal.

I prefer to avoid the human element on these ventures, and these days there is quite a bit of it, so I try to find a secluded spot below the main falls to sit and take it all in. The chasm-like drops below the falls allow for close seating to the spectacular show (though caution is necessary, as spray from the tumultuous whitewater creates a very slick surface on the granite, from which a fall would unlikely be recoverable in terms of a rescue or self-extraction, and resulting most likely in death).

It is hard to imagine that such a racket would be considered peaceful, but I find the overwhelming white noise of the water to be quite soothing. (That said, I’m also one of those “crazy folk” who isn’t overly bothered by our winter winds due to a few years’ sleeping outside in it when I first arrived in Nederland.)

After the walk in, setting the tone of the music of the falls for me, I find it easy to slip into meditation among the raucous crash of water accompanied by the occasional groan and grind of boulders dislodged by the immense forces coursing through the channels.

To sit in such close proximity to this raw power is immensely humbling and tremendously empowering at the same time. The mighty roar and booming voice of the celebration of spring’s return is a song that strikes at the very core of my existence. I feel a primal and visceral glee that ties me to all of nature surrounding me, enjoying that same celebration with me, a triumphant and melodious scream: I. AM. ALIVE!

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