From crevice seeps an ice cold drip
That trickles swift to rivulet
Then tumbles crashing down its track
O’er rock, through sluice, down cataract
To quiet pools in lands below
Old Smokey’s deep and dark shadow.
(R. Weisser 2010)
There is nothing quite like sitting beside a rushing stream and listening to the “misic of the mountains.” And since the Great Smoky Mountains National Park averages nearly 85 inches of rain in the higher elevations, it is only a matter of time before the water goes somewhere!
That somewhere is down the mountain, cascading noisily down the steep slopes and collecting into ever bigger and bigger rivers until all waters from the Smokies make their way to the Great Valley of Tennessee, and then on to the Gulf of Mexico.
As one sits in the cool drafts of water chilled breezes, deafened by the song of the water, it is easier to realize that there are some things in the universe that are much greater than ourselves.
And that is a very comforting thought to have.
Comments (13)Subscribe to CommentsComment