We went hunting for waterfalls a weekend or so ago. And along with a 260-foot roar of falling water, we also found autumn slowly creeping over the Catskills. I have to admit, having grown up amidst corn and soybean fields, the sight of any mountain range, no matter the size, never fails to make my heart just about burst. Wonder, amazement, joy ... Beauty does that to a soul. You get a little sliver of a glimpse of God's greatness and glory when you're tucked in the valleys and peaks of the mountains. Granted, my boots will never be the same again: I think there are still a few rocks rattling around in the heel of one of them. But the short hike through the damp, pine-scented woods was worth every step.
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