My mom always taught me to be wary of heights, but for some reason I could never listen.  Being so high above the ground made me feel alive and my heart always yearned for the feeling of freedom that came with sitting on the edge of a significant drop.  So, despite her warnings, I would take off to the cliffs and climb higher and higher until the ground appeared small below.  I explored everywhere, but there was one place that I kept returning to.  It was an outcropping along a cliff face about five hundred feet from the ground.  It was a steep climb, but it was worth it.  The view was like no other.  Huge cliffs stretched into the sky on either side of me, their towering peaks seeming to become lost in the sky above.  Their size always made me feel small in comparison.  In the distance, I could see the bustling city of Las Vegas, so miniscule and insignificant from so far away.  The ground below was lined with shrubs and cactuses that appeared dark and opposing against the light sand and rocks.  A few large trees were also scattered about, forming small clusters or standing alone, grim and stately, above the surrounding shrubbery.  Occasionally, a jack rabbit would bound rapidly from bush to bush, moving as if a ghost.

On particularly hot days, when no wind blew and I felt as if the air and moisture was being sucked out of me, heat rising from the desert appeared like shimmering waves.  The smell that normally assailed my nose was dry, almost odorless.  Being that high up, I guess that that was to be expected.  However, there was one thing that made this particular place special and unique.  Almost five feet away from the area that I would sit was a roaring waterfall that emerged from the cliff wall.  The water that tumbled down the cliff face appeared as a wall of blue satin mingled with silver.  Its roar was mighty, for it was not a gentle sort of waterfall that would gurgle in a laughing sort of way down a hill.  No, it was the kind of waterfall that poured down in wild torrents with a force so mighty, even the strongest of rocks were giving way to the flood.  It was a force of nature both awe-inspiring and beautiful that ended in a massive plume of water that rose from a pool of water deep enough to drown me if I was so unlucky as to slip and fall into its depths.

I do not know how much time that I spent up there, writing, or just lost in the muse of my thoughts.  I would just get lost in the rumbling of the waterfall and beauty of the landscape below, filling with inspiration that never seemed to allude me when I set up camp along that rocky outcropping.  I miss that place to this day with a longing that tugs at my heart in an almost aching way.  So much so, that I plan to return some day.  Maybe just to say goodbye and be inspired one last time by the beauty of nature that will always be there.

Just a quick impromptu!  Hope you enjoyed!



2 thoughts on “Heights

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