From here you can look out and see nothing or everything. It depends on how you look at it. The only sound you can hear is the rushing water as it
f
a
l
l
s
and pummels the rocks below.
As you descend, the mist from
the falls cleanses you of the stresses of work. Of school. Of computers and
smartphones and Twitter. Of life. It all gets washed away, rushed down the
mountain and away from you.
Refreshed.
Out here things like snakes and spiders,
normally terrifying, are just a part of the scenery. Nothing can touch you
here. The air is cool and breathable. The sun always seems to shine in all the
right places.
The hike down is long. Exhausting. Strenuous. But never miserable. The tiredness doesn’t even hit you until you’re done, and when you get to the bottom you wish there was more.
The
only bad part about this place is that you know you’ll eventually have to
leave. But you never leave completely because a part of you will always be
there.
Out here there are no traffic
jams. No deadlines or special projects. No fights or squabbles.
Out here there
is nothing.
Out here there is everything.
