Waterfall

I love waterfalls. So, by the way, do most of the animals on Mistmantle. Let's see if I can find some of my favourites -

Krimml falls in Austria. The only time in my life when I've looked down at rainbows.

Not altogether sure about this one, but it may be the Hareshaw Linn.

It's the sheer reckless, hurtling power of them that leaves me awed and speechless, and the way they keep going though you think there can't be so much water in the world. From side to side spouts shatter themselves to raindrops on rocks or gather in calm pools while the rest of the water goes on flinging itself over the edge. Bright little green plants, clinging to the sides, thrive on it.

I read somewhere recently that God's mercy, like water, will always pool in the deepest and darkest places. There goes mercy, there goes the waterfall, falling headlong to the empty places that aren't empty any more. It's not a controlled pouring, it's wild, dangerous and unstoppable. Like a Word, or a Light, or a Man, throwing himself down from the heavens, hurtling into whatever is deepest and darkest. He falls. He shatters. Life thrives. The waterfall never stops.