The power vibrated through me as I stood with my eyes closed at the top of the Upper Falls in Yellowstone’s Grand Canyon. I had arrived just before dark, the overlook silent except for the roar of the river. No muffled voices, no footsteps—just me and the thunder of water. It was a little eerie, but in that solitude I felt the energy rising in the mist, charged with breaking ions, washing over me.
It was as if the falls whispered to my soul: “Here is my life energy, making you whole, complete, one with me.”
When I opened my eyes, I looked over the edge to see the Yellowstone River funneling downward—plunging in a rush of pure white into the deep, hidden basin below. Its magnitude was overwhelming. To witness all that water, endlessly carving its way through stone into an unseen landscape, was to glimpse the power of time itself written in water and rock.
