YOSEMITE — When I was a young child just beginning to walk, my parents took me to this special place where I learned the songs of the birds and the waterfalls, and the wind that blew mist into the air that created rainbows. I remember the intense feeling of comfort, as all of nature sang, and the immense granite walls were so tall that I’d almost fall over backwards trying to see their tops. As if cradled in my mother’s arms, that’s how tranquil I felt, just looking in awe.
Last week we revisited Yosemite Valley and, even after a half century of annual trips, my senses were never so keen. I realized a profound sense of permanency. The ages-old, glacially carved granite provided us solace and resolve that, while much of the world has gone mad, the natural processes here are in order — methodical, timeless and overwhelming. Extraordinary snow melt this year has turned its most famous waterfalls — Yosemite, Bridalveil and Vernal — into most exquisite plumes of frothy white, and allowed a plethora of other temporary waterfalls to drape the walls and spew some 5,000 feet down to the valley floor. Wherever we looked there was water.
Peter Ottesen in the Stockton Record
Link via Yosemite Blog.