Enchanting Waterfall Adventures
The wayfarer took hold of his rugged hat, his cane and jacket. It was
time to take his habitual walk. He stepped out, locked the door behind him
and surveyed with a wary glance the cold and bitter morning. He knew the
way that lay ahead, past the old pine trees, the small brook, down to the
massive rocks, the last obstacle to pass before he is to reach his
destination, the valley. He was looking forward to this trek, the solitude
providing comfort he very much needed. He was relishing the thought of
freedom he was about to enjoy, letting his thoughts wander freely, without
any disturbance. The delirious happiness, which seems to befall every
single human being this time of the year, early spring, does not seem to
have any effect on him. The more he distanced himself from his hut, the
more the valley beckoned and his spirit was already listening to the
calming water burbling wonderful nothings into his ears. Thus he turned
into the clearing, expecting to see exactly the sight he memorized and
pined for. He froze. Something was amiss, a difference so striking that his
breath caught and his eyes stared mesmerized towards the creature before
him. He could not move. He was not scared or even surprised; he was
enthralled by the image his eyes transmitted into his brain. A fairy-like
being cavorted in the middle of the clearing, his sanctuary, his place of
solitude; a tall figure, sensual and somehow erotic at the same time,
joyful and alluring, bursting with life energy seemingly floated over the
greenery, as if tending to her garden. Yes, the apparition did clearly
display ubiquitous female traits and something stirred deep within him. He
gawked at her, his intentions forgotten, as she danced, sat, stood, walked,
smiled, enjoyed the nature and made the time stand still. One of her legs
was covered by some blue-ish material, the other one some kind of fine net,
but it did not seem to cover her extremely long legs at all. A light blue
top kept her modesty intact and was a tribute to her reflecting blue eyes,
which sparkled invitingly. He wanted to dance with her, sing, rejoice,
paint, create, live, breathe life in with full lungs, exhilaration bursting
within him, arousing him, peculiarly wanting him to join her quest, her
sheer existence melting into his soul.
Slowly he started to perceive sounds again and even more details
entered his mind, but he was not sure if he saw, heard or otherwise
perceived the nature following every move the otherworldly being made. The
dew appeared on leaves and lattices she glanced at, sun covering her
whereabouts as if hugging her, a move of her hand was followed by a
butterfly, the creek singing in tune with her voice. Did she really sing,
or did he just imagine that? He did not know, but he knew the melody in his
head came from her. It was as if he has never before seen nature, as if it
was colorless and bleak and now it was alive, enjoying the play, relishing
the presence that brought joy and happiness.
The wayfarer rubbed his eyes and tried to wake from a dream that
never was, nearly convinced that what he was seeing cannot be true. But the
moss, greener than he ever knew it could be and the glistering droplets of
water, shining like diamonds, nearly blinding him; all of it seems to
mockingly invite him to enjoy everything while it lasted, to bathe in
emotions and bliss, because it all was about to end.
Despite the eerie feeling that he somehow stumbled into a parallel
universe, the reality of the ordeal never left the wayfarer. Looking back,
he is unable to recall how long the experience lasted, nor how it did
ultimately end. He only remembers being there and watching, then remembers
how he was back in his cabin, preparing for his evening meal. He still
wanders to the very same place with constant diligence, looking for the
fairy being and aching to see her again. Years have passed and his routine
never wavered, his resolve to find her never waned. Sometimes, when he is
visiting the valley, he can see similarly bright colors as if fading back
to normal, making him believe he just missed her. On other occasions, he
can hear the melody in his head and fervently looks for her until the voice
fades into oblivion. He will never stop seeking, for he is the wayfarer, a
man with a mission. He will find her again and this time he will approach
her in the desperate hope that she will allow him to follow her to wherever
she goes when she leaves the valley.
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