Secret Waters at Lilliwaup, WA by Deby Dixon

Lilliwaup Falls

Shadows and moss upon the narrow walkway into another world

The gated entrance to Lilliwaup Falls

Boy and girl playing next to the stream

Around the curve, under the old tree to the falls

The sprays of freshly melted snow

I romanticize the discovery of secret water dancing deep in the forest, spilling over rocks worn smooth from the continual caress of its cold freshness.

I'm made of fire and burn with it from deep inside and so my love of fresh, clear water has always been a mystery.  As a child, once I learned to hold my breath and go under, my parents rarely saw me on the lake's surface.  A splotch of blonde, a thin wiry body and the flip of tiny, white toes, leaving behind only a splash and a ripple for mom to see.  I prided myself in how long I could hold my breath and search for treasure along the bottom, or simply swim  and feel like the wild wind was whipping through my hair.

Last weekend I had a chance to see the hidden waterfall in Lilliwaup, Washington - the same one that local residents have been waiting years to see - and so ventured behind a tall wooden gate that I'd never seen before and walked the thin narrow plank into another world.

A winding stream running under a bridge, past a house, another bridge, and curving before the old large tree that bends upon the water's surface.  At the end, falling over tall cliffs that formed a bowl, was Lilliwaup Falls running strong from the spring runoff of melting snow.  The crashing and roaring of wetness never-ending - a sound that I could listen to forever, in sleep and while awake.  Small birds chirping and darting from the old tree and skimming for bugs.

As I made my way closer to the waterfall I could smell the forest freshness of newly melted snow as sprays covered my face and camera lens.  Bright green moss danced over dark edges, and evergreens on the cliff glowed in the brightness of sunlight.  Small ferns protruded from rocks and large smooth stones tumbled beneath my feet.  I crouched beside a steep wall, beneath bare limbs that came from somewhere up above, unable to hear myself breathe, and adjusted the ISO, the f-stop and the light meter on my Nikon D700, in hopes of some slow-exposure action in the water and wishing that my tripod wasn't in the car.

Others around me, were holding their breath and walking silently, as if they were afraid of breaking the secret spell, while trying to capture their own vision of the beauty that surrounded us.  Adults stood and admired the scene in its entirety, while talking amongst one another, and dogs lapped at the water.  Two small children playing at the stream's edge, throwing a long stick for the black labrador retriever that patiently awaited their movements.  

I made my way back towards the tree, the curve, the bridges and that tall wooden gate, stopping for images at every turn, and out into the world beyond the hidden falls.