We could hear the water before we could see it. We’d all become so accustomed to the sound of the river that it was barely audible, but as we trodded forward, we could hear falling water and it sounded almost too good to be true.
The red canyon walls were glowing from the midday sun and the cottonwood trees were birthing tiny little seed pods that floated in the breeze that tickled its way down the narrow path we were taking. As the seeds moved through the air, they caught tiny bits of sunlight and they danced in the air like tiny little ballerinas with fire for tutus.
The sound of falling water grew more and more apparent as we headed into a slot canyon. The sides of it were red and round, the ground lined with a foot wide path of sand. It looked like we were on mars and there were spots where the redness of the rock caverns seemed almost painted on. The caves would widen, then narrow up again within feet of eachother and if you whispered, it would echo around you.
For an hour or so, we walked through this slot canyon, stopping only to step down where a stray rock had come down the tiny narrow passage from the top and landed in the middle of the floor. Every turn was a different view. Different shades of orange and red surrounded us. Some spots in the canyons were cold while others seemed to radiate heat. Winding through and down, we still could hear that water falling.
Everyone was silent, even the counselors. Nobody said a word and the tone of the group was pure reverence. The presence of the rock walls and trail that had been carved out over thousands and thousands of years by trickling water brought a feeling of godliness. The walls spoke silently of time, patience and solitude. Our short and tumultuous lives seemed a tiny speck in the fabric of what was layed out before us.
I looked up and saw a thick white cloud passing over the tiny slit that was the opening at the top of our passage way. The walls climbed above us at least 50 feet and this was a fairly short section of the canyon. The blue sky that held the clouds was in contrast with the firey rocks so distinctly that it made you dizzy. The true color of nature was certainly found in the most unlikely areas of the world.
Soon, we came to a spot where we could sit down. Everyone sat quietly and one of the counselors told us that up ahead was a waterfall. We all knew it, we had been hearing it for hours. He told us that we’d be able to get in the water. Girls first, boys second. Nobody was to leave the group alone, and if we saw any other people, we were to be silent about who we were or suffer consequences from the staff.
We all stood and made our way down the last section of the canyons til the roar of falling water was almost unbearable. As soon as we could see a wide opening in the slot, we stepped out into a ledge that looked over a cascade that seemed like pure heaven. We all climbed down to the bottom where the pool was licking the edges of a large pond. The water was freezing cold but it felt wonderful to my feet. The desert had made me long for green beauty and here was certainly the spot to enjoy the vegetation that only comes from a healthy water supply.
The day was spent standing in the sand, touching the water with our feet, pants rolled up and heads silently turned to the mist. I kept my eyes closed most of the afternoon and for just a second, it didn’t seem that bad out there. If only we could have stayed forever.
Towards the end of the day, as the sun started to creep down the western slope of the lower pond walls, I knew we’d be leaving to set up camp. Sadness crawled into my heart and my stomach felt like it was full of hot rocks. Momentarily, I thought about diving under the falls and never coming out. I’d be the mermaid of the falls, stuck out in the desert in a strange oasis only found by following a hell path carved out by the water that I’d live in. The only problem was, I was surrounded by angry eyes who didn’t let me leave their sight.