Planetary Stories Project

"To Act Globally, Think Locally – Through Stories"

Black Earth Institute

Place: Kent Falls, CT, USA

Kent Falls
By Kevin Brenner

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I step soundly one stair after the next, climbing a path I have known well for many years.  Step by step I climb winding back and forth through the lush greenery of the falls.  I do not know whether my footfalls are silent for they are drowned out by the rumbling murmur that permeates the air.  It seems all sound and even my thoughts are stifled by the tumbling waters, wearing away all until there is nothing but serenity and a sense of awe at the natural beauty that surrounds me.  Higher and higher I step; step by step I climb in the cool shade of the pine and the hemlock, their leaves painting a patchwork of light and shadow across my brow.  I stop and smile at the cool breeze wafting up the path behind me.   I pause a moment to relax as it swirls and dances through my hair.  Round the bend in the path I go, finally face to face with the upper falls.  The air sweeps and spills past me, pushed back from the force of the water running over the rocks above me.  A curtain of spray in the wind hits my face even though I stand a good twenty yards away.  “Go back” it seems to say, as if the spray will deter me.  My legs move once more, not up stairs but over root and rock.  I climb the final hill until at last I am above it all. Then it hits me like a dive in a cold lake on a summer’s day.  Silence fills the air.  No more do I hear the thunder of the falls for the thick trees block all sound.  Only the occasional babble of the stream or the song of a bird pierces this tranquility.  I feel lighter, as if the thunder and the spray, the stair after stair, have eroded my cares and worries away.  I turn and look past the trees and through the window of sky above the falls and spy a hawk circling above, no doubt riding the currents and the thermals of magic this place holds.  I watch it dip and soar and spiral and as I watch I remember how every time I climb these falls it is a spiritual journey for me.  I turn to see sunlight streaming through the trees, like stained glass windows in a cathedral.  This place, full of life and power, is a natural temple; a testament to the beauty and the wonder this world still holds.   I stare off into the woods for what seems to be an eternity then bend down and pick up a smooth small stone off the banks of the stream.  With a flick of the wrist it is sent flying across the stream, a tradition from childhood, and with a smile I turn to start my descent.  Rock over root, step over stair I climb.   Back down I go to the real world and leave my haven behind, knowing well that it will always be there to help me find my center and peace in life.