Clifty Falls

This morning, a gentle thunderstorm is rolling through. I imagine myself still in bed, windows open with curtains fluttering, dozing. Imagine, I say because animals and children do not share my love of thunderstorms, gentle or not. They must be reassured and, then, fed. Outside, the morning light shines through all the green, giving the world a eerie yellowish color.

Yesterday, we took advantage of the milder, sunny weather to go hiking at Clifty Falls in Madison, Indiana. Most people think of Indiana as flat corn fields, but in several places Indiana is quite hilly, and along the Ohio River in Madison, forested limestone cliffs provide waterfalls (sometimes), creeks, and interesting hiking.

With packed lunches and my latest book, I harbored the ridiculous hope that we'd hike to the creek, the boys would eat and throw rocks, explore the creek, and I would read, basking in the sun. Rather, they ate quickly and wondered, "what next"?


Their bare feet were tender on the rocks. I showed them how to find clay, pound it with hard rocks and make pliable clay. When I was child, a friend of mine lived near a creek that had a small waterfall and we would sit on rocks and pretend to be native Americans, making pots. The boys loved this - for about ten minutes. Still, I was glad to pass on this memory.

Daisy enjoyed the hiking.

Reluctantly giving up my reading, I decided that a hike up trail #2 was the ticket. Trail #2 is straight up the creek, and you must sacrifice your shoes. It was worth it. And the kids really enjoyed it until Anna spotted a snake. Joey, my nephew, had already been talking about watching for copperheads (we've not many poisonous snakes here), but I remarked that the snake, which escaped into the creek, looked more like a water snake or water moccasin. Was I stupid enough to say water moccasin? It took some convincing to get them back into the water to continue our journey. Going back would be worse than going forward.



We found some cool fossils (one that looked like a lobster tail) and overhangs. We could not go in the caves, closed because bats here are suffering from white nose syndrome, and they are trying to curb the spread of it.


The creek, of course, ran at the bottom of the hills, and we must go back up. I may or may not have occasionally taken people on short hikes that turned into long marches, so my suggestion to take a "shortcut" was met with skepticism. But, find our way we did, although we had to rest a few times on the arduous climb up. These knees of trees provided a good seat.



The rain this morning is likely gushing down these hills now, heading to the creek, causing it to rush and tumble, though yesterday it was calm.

Notes:
My writing must end now as two boys want pancakes and bacon for breakfast.

I left our creek-soaked shoes outside last night to dry. Great idea, huh?