Trekking

The rains came and came.  The sky filled with light shows to rival the Fourth of July Celebrations.  We oohed and ahhhed with great enjoyment through the evening Saturday night.  Reports of tornadoes flew on radio waves but I centered on the roar of the storm and loved the simple beauty and the power of it.

The modern in me wanted internet and phone but the storms left and took that access with them.  I really didn't mind because I planned on viewing Rock Hollow in the beauty of the rain.

With reports of rain and sleet from Hubby and after a few false starts I headed out. 

I wanted to see the swollen water of Rock Hollow.  To see the full volume I should have explored in the dark.  By the time I reached the stream bed the water had begun to recede.  It was as beautiful as I had imagined.

The sheer majesty of this place seems to make it magical.

I climbed up the hollow, watching my feet carefully.  The waters had washed away  much fall debris.  The wet beauty of the rocks with lichen and mosses was indescribable. Normally a dry hollow it was filled with run-off from the night's rain.  I did not see the fullness that was but could see the path of the flood along the bank.

I like to think once there may have been live water here tumbling swiftly as it does this Sunday.

The dogs explored, jumped the stream and sometimes waded.  I think my enjoyment was contagious. They were smiling with me.

I discovered at the top the path is changing as it has many times I imagine.  The Majesty of Rock Hollow always renews me.  It reminds me that our Earth is ever renewing and ever changing as we should be.

Something told me to follow it to the creek.

So I followed the Rock Hollow run off until there were no more boulders.  The water ran clear and swift and cold on its path to the sea.  I stood at the point where Rock Hollow joined the main creek and wondered how I could survive the beauty of the Grand Canyon if I was this excited over a few rocks here At The Farm.