The Waterfall

by Kevin Ahearn

Long, long ago, when time was just beginning, the waterfall was conceived in a billion-year molten marriage of matter and energy. When the union cooled, energy departed, leaving matter to wait alone for eons.

The changing atmosphere became fraught with storms, clouds formed, and for the very first time, it began to rain. With the water came life, which over countless centuries, evolved into bigger and more complex forms.

The land knew no peace. From the heart of the earth, volcanoes spewed out magma that cut deep and piled high; mountains and valleys were in the offing.

With a trickle the river began to flow from up high and wound its way through the freshly formed rocks that guided the tiny stream to the cliff and then over it.

The waterfall had been born. Slowly but surely the new river grew up and became a gushing torrent that ripped through the rocks, tore into the air and dove a hundred feet.

Waterfall Life matured with the river, within it and on both sides wherever it flowed. A constant competition commenced for life and death in, on, and around the water.

Nature is never at peace. Species big and small, tall and short, swift and slow, loud and silent, flowering and plain came and went. Throughout, the waterfall flowed, bringing music and color, forever changing with the seasons. High summer brought out the gold and the icy winter a silver tint. And for all who could smell, the waterfall delivered a lively bouquet. Most beautiful of all were the rainbows which arced across the sky to signal hope and renewal after a storm.

There came to be a natural ceremony in the water. For countless years the waterfall served as the final pre-wedding fling of a million million desperately enamored salmon that would leap headlong over the cliff to mate for the first and final time in the pool below.

But it was not the fish that won the waterfall. While the water may have housed and fed and transported the species for centuries on end, and hopefully would till death do them part, the waterfall fell for the bears.

After the giant lizards that had dominated the whole world for so long and had gradually disappeared following the great flash, and after the ice had come and finally melted, there appeared the big, furry creatures who hunted and played and mated and raised their families within easy reach of the waterfall.

Then the first people came. Just a few, but then a full tribe who settled in around the waterfall they called “The Tears of the Great Spirit.” For a time there was harmony.

Then Progress took over. More and more people came. When once the bears outnumbered the people 100 to one, very soon the reverse became true and when the ratio grew to 1000 to one, the bears disappeared. That was nature’s way. Had the numbers been turned around, how long would the few remaining people had survived, surrounded by bears?

Irrepressible Progress rolled on, bringing change upon change--more and more people and the means to satisfy the needs of every last one of them.

A village became a town which became a city which begat a dozen more villages surrounding the city. The people ruled the land.

Not the waterfall. Progress upriver had led to people’s wastes being dumped in the water and for many years, the once-clear stream turned a filthy brown and killed countless salmon. Its colors ran together to create a murky muck. Its odor was dank. But still the water fell.

As people had condemned the water, only people could redeem it. They had come to love the waterfall and to love making love by the waterfall. High up on the cliff was a smooth ledge that caught the magical spray of the high spring season.

With the very first people, couples would seek out the ledge to consummate their emotions, and with the passing of time, one might judge the status of human nature by the positioning of their couplings. As each got closer and closer to the edge, they got lower and lower on the cliffside. Some fell over. Death had always touched the waterfall and tainted its colors.

But the tradition continued. “We did the waterfall,” young couples would cry out to confirm their relationship to all within earshot.

Progress threatened that relationship. The people fought back; they cared about the waterfall. Over the years, local artists and writers had created hundreds of paintings, essays and poems celebrating the beauty, the power, the life in and of the waterfall.

The waterfall had become a symbol-nature and civilization must co-exist.

This battle the people won and within a generation, the river flowed clear and clean once again. But there was a war coming and the needs of civilization would give no quarter.

The river fought back. After a hard, snowy winter, heavy spring rains coupled with a sudden thaw swelled the river over its banks and the water roared through the villages and the towns and the city, uprooting trees and tearing down houses and bridges and sending cars and livestock and people over the waterfall.

When the waters finally receded, the waterfall declared victory with its largest and brightest rainbow ever. It would also be the last.

There was outrage. The river had to be conquered and enslaved. The needs of the people came first.

Technology stabbed through the water and dug deep into the river bottom. The water was diverted as the digging and then the building began. A wall rose up out of the water and soon stood from bank to bank.

The new dam controlled the water. Never again would the river rise and spill over its banks. Never again would the waterfall gush and become a mighty cascade. Now giant turbines stole the water’s power and gave it to the people.

Time had seemingly reversed itself. As it was so many millions of years ago, the waterfall had become a weak and lifeless trickle.

Many were saddened at the sight of it.

“Bring back our waterfall,” they cried as if one of them owned, as if anyone could own, the waterfall.

The dam held. Dissent withered away. Progress kept coming.

Soon the dam was no longer enough. The water allowed to flow through it would be utilized for more important needs. A purification plant was constructed and the water thoroughly cleansed went for drinking and washing and irrigation.

The river was no more.

No sooner had the last drops of water evaporated then Progress moved in with borrowed soil to cover the rocks and smooth over the riverbed. New construction began and homes and schools and shopping centers and roads erased all traces of the river beyond the dam.

The needier won out.

The waterfall had fallen.