Posted by on Nov 7, 2011 in Photographs, Sacred Nature | 0 comments

From the nearby stone plateau at the edge of the pounding waterfall, I stand and stare. Mesmerized by the sound of the rushing water, caught up in the loud white noise, my senses are on overdrive and my body is inexplicably filled with nervous anxiety. A sense of fear, undoubtedly karmic, bubbles to the surface.

I find myself swallowing often. The water triggers something, forcing me to salivate excessively. I want so much to stand under the water curtain and tilt my head back to refresh my parched throat with a long cool drink. But how, without forcing my own death? It’s the dangling carrot at the end of the stick.

I try to see through the liquid cascade, beyond its obvious profile, I ache to know more. Who else stood here? The presence of others permeates the location . . . the natives with their young, pioneers washing their belongings, prim Victorians baring themselves for a cool bath.

My heartbeat quickens as I find myself leaning toward the shooting stream. The temptation to be one with it is overcomes me. Finally, giving in to my inner mermaid, I release my pants. Shirt and underclothes follow. As I dive into the pond, my body relaxes but for the never-ending need to be within the waterfall itself.

As the crown of my head crests the surface, I focus on the dropping water and finally move toward it. The reverberating wall of water beats upon my head and shoulders. I am holding my breath and smiling imagining my own image as a tick mark in the waterfall’s personal log of eternal acquisitions.

~Tam Veilleux

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