There’s something calming and oddly soothing about the roar of waterfalls. Which is funny when you think about it, because a waterfall is one of nature’s most terrifying natural features: water, along with its inhabitants and cargo, flows smoothly smoothly smoothly until it crashes down violently, endlessly, forcefully, pressing down and giving no moment for breath to anyone who has the misfortune of falling in.
Yet there’s comfort in seeing this beautiful chaos in nature, in seeing the elements clash together from a safe distance. Perhaps it speaks to who we are as humans. Maybe the roar of the water whispers to our souls, its restlessness intimately familiar, its flow like the blood in our veins, constantly moving forward with or without us. Maybe the height of the fall speaks to our fears, maybe the gentle stream downriver reassures us that all will be well, later.
Maybe they elicit something that we in turn cannot put back into words our tongues would know how to pronounce.