How often I have looked at this waterfall from above, from below, from the side, in photographs, on sunny days, on rainy days, covered with snow and ice. Where am I when I am looking? The waterfall is within me, trickling on dry summer days, roaring after the rain, moving continuously down the rocks to the bottom of the pool, splashing and turning under the flow, throwing its mist onto my face, merging with the emotional stream in delight and desire for another look, another day.
