The true north strong and free.
Sure, there are mountains elsewhere in the world.
I drove through the Cascades in Washington State over Christmas. The Laurentians in Quebec and the Adirondacks in New York State? Done and done.
But none of them felt like mine.
The Kananaskis and the Rockies? Mine.
I hear them calling my name as I stand at the C-train station. I call back to them, promising a visit soon.
Today, I visited.
From these mountains, I rebuild my strength and centre myself.
They stand so freely, so strongly and so majestically.
I wonder at their creation, their fortitude and their timelessness.
And I feel small and humbled by their greatness.
Tucked away in those mountains are little spots of exquisite beauty.
Troll Falls is one of them.
My first visit last summer left me awestruck. The falls are not great like Niagara, nor deafening like Takakaw.
They are a hidden treasure — a well-known hidden treasure — on the Hidden Trail Loop off the Ribbon Creek parking lot.
I sat under the falls some months ago and let the water spray strike my face, a refreshening respite on a hot, summer day … for me and Shep!
But the falls take on a different look in winter. And it’s amazing how a sudden drop in temperature can instantly freeze water as it tumbles over the cliff’s edge.