Brave blooms and a spring stream

They look like they’ve just arrived from someplace warmer, a small group of tourists looking hopefully around for accommodations.

Then there’s this one, growing in a tiny stream. Bloom where you’re planted.

We enjoyed the gorgeous glen on a sunny day. The joyous spring sound of rushing water was everywhere.

Wet-loving plants and mosses adorned the shale walls and dead trees.

I was taken with the sense of heights as we walked down the streambed. Everywhere, the steep banks invited us to look upward toward the sun.

The contrast between light and dimness caught my attention. So did the contrast between beauty and violence.  You can’t get a stream picture that doesn’t include trees fallen down steep banks, broken and rotting — or great stones tumbled who knows how far by the water at its strongest.

Someone had created a space for humans along one part of the bank.

I, along with my daughters, joined in. We left our names there beside a growing number of others.