Blue thunder crashes down onto and then splashes off the mossy sandstone, pulverizing the riverbed into submissive sand. Refreshing mist greets the bystander’s face. The spruces, pines, and firs bask in the crisp autumn sunlight. A nearly leafless aspen is a spinal cord with nerves reaching out in all directions to feel the shadow suffocate the valley. A lone pine stands proudly atop the falls as though it’s modeling the latest needles from the Ponderosa line. And it all matches her perfectly. Her skin is gentle and brown like the sand we stand on. Her eyes are reminiscent of of the pines’ bark, a rich almond. The mountainside is tall and noble as she is. Her smile is as hypnotizing as the rushing waterfall. She picks me a flower. I accept it graciously and embrace her. We hold hands and smile at each other. We enjoy the scenery and the moment and ask some strangers to take a photo of us. Young love preserved in film, a sweet memory. When things are tough, we must think of times like this, and remember how calm and pleasant life can be.