an afternoon in the forest

The trees shoot skyward, thin and straight, seemingly defying physics to tower above. Their canopy darkens vast forest, making it intimate, private. Along the banks of the winding rivers the canopy clears, deepening the valley and offering smaller trees a change to tangle themselves into the moss and ferns and dirt.

The water winds its way through the forest, slowly until it finds a drop. Then cascading down it rushes into pools below, coating everything in a damp mist. Moss covers the nearby trees, their branches wrenched in crooked green tendrils.

Trails throughout lead us by several falls, each impressive. Some twist perilously close to a cliff's edge, others bend beneath a ceiling of rock and we stoop to pass.

At the end we brave ever increasing mist to stand underneath and behind the waterfall. The sound of a wall of water rushing by quiets everything, the air is warn and wet and my ears fill with an immense roar. It cascades from above in a torrent, trapping me within as it speeds perilously by.