A friend today reminded me of a story I once told her that rings of youthful (and hopefully lifelong) positivity.  I was 25, driving from Connecticut to Ohio with a beautiful girl who suggested we picnic at a waterfall she’d heard about.  She pulled out the map (yes, paper!) and bravely started detouring us through Worcester MA.  There may well be some beauty in Worcester MA, but for an hour we found nothing but wrong turns.

Tired, discouraged and mad at ourselves for wasting an hour, we finally gave up and returned to the interstate, pulling off at the first rest stop outside of town. We pulled out the blanket and meager picnic supplies when inspiration hit (I’d like to say it hit me, but honestly have no idea).  Backs to the interstate, eyes closed, we let the steady noise of trucks and tires flow smoothly over us.  Like water.  Like a waterfall cascading over us, soothing nerves and refreshing spirits.

To this day, I can close my eyes to a highway’s roar and taste those carrots and hummus, feel the fresh smile of my beautiful friend, and hear the comforting rumble of a waterfall.