Stonewall Creek Musings

Standing in the waters of Stonewall Creek Falls, I find myself musing about the importance of allowing the Becoming of something or someone to unfold without interference. As humans and especially as women, we have the urge to advise, fix, hurry, shape, manipulate, and improve things on their way to becoming. Perhaps it is woven into us. We nurture. We guide. We protect. We help things grow. And in doing so, we often forget that becoming does not always require our intervention. We have to consciously rewrite that programming to allow ourselves to simply witness without interference. The Falls displayed that concept beautifully.

This week I welcomed my very first guest to Shimmering Ridge Sanctuary.

My dear friend Sheri spent several days walking the ridge with me, exploring the landscape that has been become home. The headwaters of Stonewall Creek have been one of my favorite spots to spend time. I knew it would be one of hers as well.

Here, on this land, the tiny stream meets with 3 separate springs that feed into it and before it leaves my property, it has grown quite a bit. Still a very humble little creek, for sure, but you can noticeably see the increase in flow from one end of the property to the other.

I love this little creek. The water is crystal clear to the beautiful mica shimmering rocks and sediment on the creek bottom. It is cool and refreshing when you step into it, and it is very hard for me Not to step into it every time I am down there. The energy that flows from these mountain springs coming together is so pure that it is nothing short of magical.

Stonewall Creek Headwaters

Mica bottom - the Shimmer of Shimmering Ridge Sanctuary

Towards the end of her visit, we set out on a small pilgrimage to Stonewall Creek Falls. Not because we needed to visit a waterfall, but because we wanted to witness together what I had seen several times before. We wanted to see those small waters Become.

The drive to the falls is a beautiful one, much like any drive here. As with most roads in Rabun County, Georgia, there is no straight line from here to there. You have to go out and come back again—this was no different. As the creek flows, it’s probably no more than 2 miles, but it is a 25-minute drive to get there. The road goes where the mountains and waters allow. It undulates through mountain passes and around the borders of creeks, streams, rivers and lakes. Even the parking pad must follow the laws of the landscape.

The trail out to the falls is just as full of wonder. What starts as a long-forgotten access road into the national forest, eventually is all but reclaimed by it. There is always something new that catches my attention along the dirt path. This time, it was a variety of fern (New York Fern) that had recently popped up - one I haven’t seen at the ridge, either.

New York Fern

The old access road also runs alongside a mountain bike trail. There are several spots where they cross and at each one, long before you get to the falls, you hear her flowing over rocks and through the landscape. The trees and shrubs shelter the waters from site, but there is no mistaking that she is there.

We continue on until the landscape opens up and shares her with us, and the world. She truly is Magnificent. It isn’t the height of this waterfall that makes it magnificent, although it is impressive. It isn’t the beauty of how the water flows over the rocks in the most magical way, although it does. It is the knowing that this massive amount of water, rushing over the rocks started as the humble, unassuming little creek nestled in the ravine of Shimmering Ridge Sanctuary. Beginning with the first springs just a few hundred feet from the boundary, joining with the 3 springs on my property, and flowing through the mountain ravines receiving waters from countless other springs—she has Become.

She didn’t need human intervention. She didn’t need help, or fixing, or manipulation. She didn’t need guided to this spot or hurried along. She just needed us to get out of the way. To drive around and not through. To witness and not advise. To allow her to be who she was and become who she needed to be without judgment or interference.

The lesson was received. And the creek continued on without pause.