Wednesday, June 3, 2009

A Summer Morning Walk

On Monday, my husband and I decided to take a walk along the road leading to Dingman Falls. It's a beautiful stroll in an Appalachian ravine. The woods rise steeply on either side and fill the air with their piney scent. A bustling creek spills it's brisk waters over the rocks and winds around, following and skirting underneath the road. Birds are busy with their nests in early June and punctuate the air with their rapid calls. They sing as they work.

The road leads to two waterfalls which are connected with a boardwalk. The first, Silver Thread, is a gossamer stream that sends it's refreshing waters down a very narrow, very straight ravine. It's hard to believe it's not man-made. The rocks split off at sharp right angles which look like they must have been cut by a machine. Further on lies Dingman Falls, the second largest in Pennsylvania. It's broad rush down a long incline that sprays mist over admirers on the boardwalk below. Adventurous tourists can climb the stairway and path that lead up the ravine and around to the top of the falls.

The woods surrounding them are filled with a wide variety of plants and animals. We have been surprised many times by what we found there. Monday was no exception. When we walk along the narrow, winding road, we find it necessary to occasionally stand by the side as a car passes. We were standing still at one of these moments when I looked down and saw columbines, very much like the picture above. Right at my feet. I would have missed them entirely, had we not stopped. Then I noticed that they danced all the way up the side of the ravine, as though they were following their own meandering path. A path of columbines. Like this. Here in the woods, growing wild. I used to plant them in my garden. Next to them were bluets, whose lavender petals served as a backdrop that made the columbines' yellow and tangerine hues glow. I was captivated.

Since then, I keep thinking of them. I thought of them yesterday as we cleared out our attic and carried dusty boxes to the garage. I thought of them as I ate supper. I remembered them as I lay in bed and listened the wind outside. I could still seeing them dancing against the dark green woods with the bluets beside them.

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