Rain here is really no big deal. It mostly just sprinkles. Less like the fire hose rain we get in Colorado.
Going up into the mountains here is like entering fairyland. The kids had so much fun helping Granny and I decide who lived in the trees, and in the little nooks and crannies among the rocks. We found the homes of elves, gnomes, and fairies, but not dwarves, as there were no caves nearby.
There really is something magical about a clear, pure creek and the smell of green, wet, growing things that just gets into my blood and makes me want to sing. I am so grateful to be on intimate terms with the Creator of such beauty. My utter fascination with the miniature, perfect detail of tiny little plants and the majesty of the tall pines are equal. Rotting logs covered in a rich upholstery of vivid green moss, leaves dripping with clear rainwater, and the bubbling laughter of creek water all have a firm hold on my heart. The smell is divine in its very essence. Lovely and natural and wholesome.
When I picture heaven, this is how it looks to me. I can’t picture heaven without the smell of rainwater and growth and dirt and green.
I wish I could stay forever.
But, since I can’t, I’ll be content with what God has in store. He claims it’s beyond my imagination, so I think I’ll keep an open mind. 🙂
Anyway, here are the pictures from our adventure to the waterfall. Enjoy!