Who knew?  Not I…

Nestled in the crooked arms of a stream swiftly flowing to the Scioto, tumbling over a rocky cliff and spilling with loud voice and great spray; just a few bare miles past soy and corn spread across the flatlands like a great green blanket…a waterfall.


A magically misty majestic waterfall…

It sings, serenading the weary with siren’s voice:  “Come.  Come and be refreshed.  Come…come and rest your body and soul…hear the Creator’s song!  I’ll sing it for you…stop…stay and listen awhile…”

Oh…the impossibility of such a place!  Rocky cliffs and dense emerald green…walls that beg the adventurous to climb “higher up and further in…”

Rainbowed droplets caressingly cool…and natural treasures abound!


A place of joy…of pensive contemplation and reflection.  Of wonderment…the rumble and roar…the sheer power of this tumbling cataract call us to sing our own song…

“Thank you, Father.  Thank you for this gift of beauty…so unexpected on a sultry summer day.  It is good…

…it is very, very good.

Blessings,