Waterfall Falling

This is part of the larger pain peace that I have. Could put that up in the future, but liked this bit, if I can remember what I had : Also want to write to follow-up to this, but not know what to call it?

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The cool air broke as I came from the trees, the morning air was thick as I had underestimated what the time would be from the house, but I am in no rush. The Trees have given way to rich soft rolling grass of the plain. Here is where I wondered years before while we were camping, and here is where I wanted to come back. The warm moist air surrounds me, in the green dress and outfit that I have brought with me. Moving off to the left, the place I want is close, the large black rocks are there, and soon I will be at peace.

In the middle of the rocks is a place to rest and get out of the sun. The cool of the earth is my friend, as I take off my pack and my old worn shoes that have given me so much use. My feet now liberated, to feel the soft grass that my eyes and nose have taken in all the while. I sit and eat some of the bread and dried meat I have, along with some fruit and think of a fire. First though the dark red cloak, like the red wine my mother and father has in their cellar, is to come off. It was over my shoulders while in the woods, but the bright sun of summer warms me now. The cloak is folded, and set on a black rock. Next the food and some rest in this warm place, the cool shelter of the rocks.

After my little nap, the sun is at its height, or seems that way. I have another place to visit. The waterfall that drew me here in the first place is not fare. As I walk the wind stirs and the sounds are warming, that rush inviting, as I stand at the edge. Looking out over the river it falls to the valley below, the air and mist stirs. I am able to see it meet the rocks and water below as it travels on down to the sea. But here the valley is deep and the sound of power fills this place, it is peace, but it is also, the pain of water in collision. So I stand and watch birds' fly dance in the sky. This is a place of peace and refuge from that other world. But it is that world driving me to these falls.

Back at the rocks I open my pack and prepare for the next step. Creating a place for my offering. The warm earth is soft and I take my little tool and dig out a whole. It only fits my pack, and that is not too big. As I dig the sun falls over me as I begin to get hot and the water drips off my face. The green dress should not be put through all this, so I stand. My hole is nearly done, but I must cool off. So I reach the laces to untie the bodice of my rich green dress. It was the last gift of my family, so I could be well dressed for the Ren fairs. The dress relaxed and I took a deep breath. The soft comfortable hug of the bodice was nice. I can see why some would call it 'painful', but that only can be because they are not properly fitted or laced to tight. Off it falls to the green grass. I lift it up and lay it out over the wide black rocks. Now my chemise, the second halve of this outfit. My mother had always thought it good that I be dressed for the fairs, but also it must be proper. So off I let it fall, now naked I am in this peaceful green place that I love. The chemise is placed out beside the dress and I can return to my work.

My hole now dug I line it with small stones and pat them down firmly to the earth. From my pack I pull the small steel box that will keep my things. Opening it there is a number of plastic bags and one wooden box. It holds my silver chain, with black, purple, and yellow crystals. It was a gift to myself from the last fair I went to. It fits around my waist, and then I loop it around to tie it off. This is the first time it is on my skin. I got it, but mother always said I should put it over a dress or with a skirt. It feels good to have the dangles touch my hips, the silver sparkle in the sun.

My eyes fall to the clothes out drying in the sun. The cloak I will need tonight maybe, so it stays. The chemise is still wet, but the green dress, can be put to rest. Folded and pressed it goes into a plastic bag and sealed, then into the box. Now I can relax, and wash the dirt away.

The river has over time carved out a pool up from the falls. The soft soil pulled out revealing the hard black stones of a past volcanic flow. So this little pool I find, and hear I sit. Sliding into the water, letting it take hold of me. The river's voice only a little way off. Hear I sit, the wind scented with flower's pollen, and the sounds of the woods. I sit, the water all over me, my first time naked in the water. The freedom of it all, water, air, and the sun. I am here for me, to be free of that other world.

With the sun setting, the water must be left, or well I could stay to be all shriveled up. Still with sun left I let my self bask on the black rocks and warm my skin. Bits that have never seen sun, or felt it directly. Mother always would say you should be covered up, never to show this or that, and NEVER to be naked. In fact she was the only other person who had seen me as such. At school, the pool or the beach, always covered, always change in private. But hear this is what the world should be like, what I hoped it to be like. The grass, rocks, water, air; all free. If I were to be found I think that would be ok, why should I be any different then an animal, I am part of this place, yes?

As the sunsets my pinkish skin is warmed from the starting of sunburn, but that is fine. I just liken it to being a newbie in this free land. I start a small fire and watch the sun fall back over the trees and hills to the west. The fire dances and flicks over the wood and moss. It has a life all to its own. A little breeze or waive of my hand, it slides off to one side then the other. The rich orange, reds, and yellows hold my eyes, it is calming and exciting in one. I picked up my chemise and it is ready for its new home of plastic, and so in it goes and I am ready for a quiet night. The darkness falls as the night closes. Sounds change from those of day to that of night. What can I think make them? The water is more prevalent as I sit quietly, with these thoughts and the fire. I reach up and take down my hair, long and thick from the simple brass cage it is held in. My head rests on the pillow of grass and my pack, the cloak over me my fire slowly dying and I drift off to sleep.

Morning comes early out in the world, with no shades to try and hold it off, but to awake hear with the warmth of the returning sun is much better then the shriek of some alarm. The new morning brings me back to the box. My chain that has left an imprint on me is placed back in its wooden box, wiped off and coiled up. Into plastic it sits, and in the metal box. My hair pins as black as the rocks with the brass cage are next to be interned. Now all is ready, for my meal. My water and bread a simple meal for this morning. Sitting on the rock I see a doe and her fawn on the other side of the river. She is a little hesitant of the open, but they drink. My eyes are filled with this little sight, the mother and child bound off with the sound of some bird. Now my meal done, a small dip in the water. The pool is relaxing and I know I am ready.

Out of the water dripping I walk along the banks, looking at the flowers and tall trees, the beginnings, of the great forest. Then back to my little camp. My little offering to the ages is nearly complete; only my soft red cloak and the silver ring my mother gave me. I tie the ring, my first bit of jewelry to the closer of the cloak and they both slip into plastic, the air pushed out. Now the box is full and in it goes to the pack, then all into the hole. I smile as my hands move the dirt. All that is left is the last bag, for this journal, to let you know who I am and what is found held here. My hands move over each page remembering the happy and the sad. I am hear to stop that, to become one again with the earth that created me.

These last thoughts will not be recorded, for that book sits bound snug under a rock on top of my little shrine. I only hope that one who will understand it finds it. At the edge of the valley I stand. Calm and peace, to look out down to the water.

Falling the air passing me, the water advancing, this is the end this is peace, from the pain.