Waterfall | Life and Other Adevntures

Waterfalls: The Gift of April Showers

Sunday afternoon and the sky glows dimly. I vaguely remember, maybe it was Wednesday around 2pm, the sky opened up and puffy, manageable clouds accented a bright spring sky.

Most conversations I hear lately dabble at some point into the rainy month. I figured people just like to complain. But when I looked up annual precipitation numbers, I read that April in Western Mass averages 3.7 inches. So this April’s whopping 8 inches of rain isn’t exactly unwarranted fodder for conversation.

For me, I’ve been working on embracing hygge. Yes, hygge involves cozy blankets and warm beverages. And barbecues surrounded by fairy lights and 4 dear friends, if it’s summer time. I love these things. But surrounding these delicious undertakings is a perspective shift.

During their long winters, Danes experience not only darkness, but lots of snow and lots of cold rain. Vacation dream: amiright? But a majority of Danes report that winter is their favorite season.

The question that hygge answers is: what can I do to feel happy?

Cut to yesterday.

Riley and I packed a picnic lunch, grabbed my copy of New England Waterfalls, and hopped on the road. We drove 1 hour and 14 minutes to Glendale Falls in Chester, MA. Because what is there an overabundance of now? Water. And what makes waterfalls extra powerful and majestic? Water!

Half the drive is on state routes and side roads where we passed trees delicately leafing in pale greens, crimson reds, and even a few burnt oranges. I hadn’t realized before that the coveted fall colors also make a gentler appearance in the spring. Also, just finishing my 5th read-through of Anne of Green Gables helped open my eyes to this particular beauty. Basically, I was totally enraptured. Bonus: The gray sky makes the colors pop out all the more.

On arrival, a sign clearly marks the parking lot, and the 160 foot high Glendale Falls starts just steps into the woods. And you can walk right up to it. I dipped my whole hand into a voluptuous, strong eddy by the bank and the cold water felt full and soft as it detoured around my palm and fingers.

A well-kept trail, including some stone or wood stairs, brings you down to the bottom. The whole area smelled damp and vegetal. Huge boulders looked like weird plants in the forest because they were covered in squishy, electric green moss carpets.

From the base, Riley and I gazed up and watched the stampede of water. Plunging through powerful narrows. Lightly flicking into the air from an upturned rock. Swerving 90 degrees through a well worn passage on the far bank. Dropping in sheets off a 3-foot wide boulder. The diversity of patterns kept us enthralled for a quarter hour at least.

Plus I took these photos.

Eventually, we walked back up to our car and I switched the rain boots for my fuzzy moccasins, which I still firmly insist were sold as outdoors shoes. We ate tortilla chips, cashews, and a leftover panini. And the chocolate chip cookies. Drizzle beaded on the windshield, the falls audible from our wide open windows.

Hygge. When life gives you tons of rain go chasing waterfalls.

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *