Not too far from our place runs a little meandering creek named Terrapin Creek. At a point near a railroad bridge over the creek, and shelf of limestone juts out of the hill into the creek causing a small waterfall. Harland played here as a child, and a couple weeks ago, I went with him to see it for the first time. We drove down through the harvested corn field in the pickup truck, and stopped by the edge of the creek. I hopped out of the truck with my camera, and started past some large cottonwoods lining the bank.
Then I slid/jumped/hopped down the 10 foot bank to the edge of the creek. The water was running clear and cold as it is partially fed by freshwater springs. Fallen maple leaves dotted the bank and floated downstream. Pale yellow and green Creek Maples reflected in the water.
I walked upstream along the bank and under a low railroad bridge. Just on the far side of the bridge was the little waterfall.
It’s drop is only about a foot, but it is pretty to look at and lovely to listen to. Harland set up his tripod and camera and clicked away. I too took pics.
Then a train whistle sounded in the distance. Harland prepared to plug his ears with his fingers as we were right under the railroad bridge. Wanting to get some pictures of the train as it passed overhead, I found a strategic spot and waited. The low rumble of the approaching train grew louder and louder. I held my camera up. It blew its whistle and the ground shook as an endless stream of engine and cars clacked away just above our heads.
The bridge creaked and popped. I clicked away with my camera but the noise was so great I couldn’t hear the shutter. Finally, the train rumbled away into the distance, and I waited for my heart to stop pounding in my ears. As the sun set, I took a few more pictures of the waterfall before we scrambled back up the creek bank and headed back to the truck.
Dusk was settling and the air cooling as we got back to the truck.
We held hands and drove on in silence.