"Wildness was ever sounding in our ears, and Nature saw to it that besides school lessons and church lessons some of her own lessons should be learned, perhaps with a view to the time when we should be called to wander in wildness to our heart's content" -John Muir
All is trying to maintain a state of
equilibrium. Cutting through the granite of this once glacier filled valley,
the Merced River follows its course that it has been pursuing for the past
thousand years. It further partakes in the shaping of the landscape that was
carved by the great glaciers that first called the valley home. Looking over
the swift river, the undulating waves bring water to the shore and wet the
plants. Spider web branches release twigs and leaves into the current and take
their passengers to their far off destinations. The winds bring down more
sticks and branches, the birds stop singing, the waters take up a dark color,
reflecting the angry clouds above. Finally, the first drops rain down, observed
only by their thumbprint ripples. What was once a tranquil river has
transformed into a rushing torrent of water influenced by the storm’s winds
that wash away any lingering memory of the sun. As the storm rages above the
water, down in its depths, creatures hardly take notice. They go about their
day skimming the bottom, a daily quest for their next meal. And almost as soon
as it starts, it ends with a fulgent flash of the sun, penetrating through the
clouds like a needle bringing radiance to all. The melodies of the birds awaken
the river, signaling all who can hear that the storm is over. Once more the
river is at peace.
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