Almost two months ago I attempted to climb the Buttermilk Falls trail with my cousin Joan. Her memories of attacking these steps in days gone by did little to help me ascend this gorge. I suspect even a seasoned trail blazer might find it to be a challenge. In any event, my age, lack of fitness and stamina, short legs and fear of heights all collaborated in ending my hike at what to most would signify the beginning of the upward trail. The rising steps had no handrails to help me secure my balance. Sitting down on one of the border boulders, I regained my composure and opted to photograph the downhill view.
The resulting frame does little to illustrate the menacing steps. Looking downward I found the escape route from my terror. Relieved that using my photograph as a reference for a painting would create a challenge of a different sort and one that I could probably find some success with, I reminded myself that one failed attempt at Buttermilk was not a big deal. Thankful that I did not lose my balance and take a dive into the crashing pool of falling water I was satisfied to turn this dismal display of my physical condition into some sort of a positive experience. Having spent some time with my cousin, enjoyed some fresh air and the beauty of nature and also found inspiration for a watercolor painting was certainly accomplishment enough for me.