Mountain Stream 3-31-2012
By John W. Vander Velden
Flowing swiftly, the crystalline water sparkling, dances among stones large and small, racing headlong through the narrow valley, the land rising steeply on either side. Great rocks of granite, stacked they seemed, rise skyward. Thousands of trees, their leaves fresh and new, the green of spring, covered the mountainside. Growing from any cleft large or small that offered foothold. Morning’s sun, filtered, illuminated the dogwoods. The white blossoms hanging over the swiftly flowing water that seems alive as it rushes downward, careening into boulders, leaping off small waterfalls, thundering as it crashed down upon itself, winding left and right and out of sight. The roar filling the valley certainly heard among the mountain tops. Glass clear, cold water racing between moss covered stone, its source high above, destination unknown. Sunlight reflected from the ever changing mirrors of water’s surface, flashing white patterns changing yet understood in a primal way. No need to explain. Only to absorb the beauty alive before my eyes, to feel the life, the thunderous roar that trembled my ribs and the dampness of mist rising from tumbling waters, to smell the freshness of blossoms, pine’s needles, new leaves but most of all the scent of raging waters. Standing silently at water’s edge I absorb it all. Too seldom I find myself in these places. Too seldom I force myself to escape what others call the real world to come to a world that is real! Only moments spent…important moments…vital! Perceptions shaped…priorities formed…value realized. So much can be seen…felt…learned…in the time spent along a mountain stream.