Gleno Waterfall - Carrie Dickson

Gleno Waterfall

My brother said, come on let’s go. So we did. Mum

came too.

Out of the glen and up the big hill. I saw the sun

shine overhead.

We parked our bikes by the hedges. Mum took the

path but my brother and me scrambled up the

banks towards the trees. I heard the roar of the

waterfall calling to us.

I climbed and he climbed until we saw it, we saw

the waterfall.

We raced down towards the river, straight over

the bridge and past the little fairy house.

We left our clothes on the rocks and clamoured

over the sharp stones into the shiny, cold water.

All I could hear was the roar of the waterfall and

my brother’s call, that’s all.

We splashed and laughed. Mum laughed too.

We swam to the deepest bit

and got closer and closer, my brother and me.

The waterfall pushed against us but we kept on

until we could reach out and touch it,

we touched the waterfall.

We felt its power

On us, under us, all around us.

The waterfall was alive, and so were we

My brother and me.

We lay for a while on the rocks and dried in the

hot sun.

We made little boats from sticks and leaves and

watched them sail under the bridge and then off

past the riverbend towards the sea.

When we got to our bikes the roar of the waterfall

sounded quieter.

The way back was downhill and breezy.

At home we lit a fire outside and toasted

marshmallows. We talked of all we had done that

day. We told of how we had touched the waterfall.

How the waterfall was alive, and so were we, my

brother and me.