On grandson David’s day off, we drove through the town of Cherokee to get to Mingo Falls. We had been there a few years ago when daughter Lise was visiting. I had forgotten there were 161 steep, uneven steps to get to it. Her words of encouragement that day must have really helped me get there. This time, David and John gave me helping hands.
David seems to have a mission for rescuing things in the water. Someone had left a plastic bottle wedged among the rocks below the falls, and he emptied it and crumpled it up to take back down. John did the same for a bottle someone had thoughtlessly left on the bridge railing.
I felt sorry for the naked roots, clinging tenaciously to the rocks. They don’t even have a good view of the falls!