05/31/2026
Today I hiked Catawba Falls alone.
Along the trail, I counted twelve landslides. Twelve reminders that even the strongest mountains are not immune to change.
Trees uprooted. Hillsides rearranged. Familiar landscapes forever altered.
And yet, Mama Water kept moving.
It flowed around obstacles, carved new pathways, and patiently reshaped stone. It reminded me that healing is rarely forcing our way through. Sometimes we must become more like water....soft enough to adapt, persistent enough to continue, and strong enough to transform what once seemed immovable.
The climb uphill was steep and quiet. Just me, my thoughts, an album, and the rhythm of my feet meeting the earth. Solitude has a way of clearing the static. "Solvitur ambulando"
Then came the descent....what felt like a thousand stairs winding down beside the waterfalls. Each step bringing me closer to the roar of rushing water and the reminder that nature never apologizes for its power.
The mountain wore its scars openly today.
The waterfalls sang anyway.
Maybe that's the lesson.
Life will bring landslides. Plans collapse. Hearts break. Seasons change. Parts of us we thought were permanent get washed away.
And still, something within us keeps flowing.
Resilient.
Moving.
Healing.
Like water finding its way home