I come upon a waterfall that at first I notice through the trees, it's sound just glides down the smooth rock it runs over. If I didn't catch sight of it at first I would scarcely know that it was there.

A gentle flowing stream of water, mixed and tumbled to reflect the light of the day. It glides and sings into the forest descending gently into a pool.

I sit looking into pools watching the rocks reflecting. I watch the water distort their image so slightly. It's like looking at the stars in the night sky and watching them twinkle. I feel that I am looking as deep into the water as I do to the stars at night.

I sit transfixed on top of one particular waterfall, listening to a rumble. The sound foretells a bigger event, like the sound of a jet engine warming up miles away, or the rumble of an earthquake just beginning. I wait and listen expecting the sound to get bigger, but it doesn't.

The flow of water is constant and the rumble is just there as are the rocks.

But I'm curious as to how falling water can create such a sound and I begin to investigate the waterfall more closely.

Could the water be falling past a cavern then bouncing off the rock below and echoing throughout an incredible cavern right underneath this waterfall? Right below where I am sitting might be this cavern, carrying the reverberated sound of falling water.

A whole other world carved out ages ago by the very water flowing past me. A world where perhaps there are other streams to watch, listen and to learn from.

But I come back to this one on the surface of the planet, knowing that today I have learned much from it.