November when the trees are naked is a great time to view the property's waterfalls, especially after rain has them rushing, and this one, #7, is the most remote and difficult to access of the eight waterfalls, with banks on each side so steep and choked up with rocks and impassable fallen trees I've never gotten close enough to capture its mostly unseen majesty. But yesterday, because it was there and because if I didn't do it now I might never, I was determined to climb, splash, crawl, and balance-beam to inch as close as possible, and got closer than ever before so I could show you. Still photos are nice but they don't give you a sense of scale or capture the whole experience with sound. I took a video. Now you can see and hear Waterfall #7 at full flood for real (40 seconds). Its brook ultimately flows about a quarter mile through the woods, and then over another waterfall, #5, into a pool, and then beneath bluffs into a swirling LaBarque Creek.
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Although I lived in Missouri for nearly forty years of my life, it never felt like "Home" to me. My early years in Missouri were unbearably painful and full of trauma. The one saving grace of my life from ten to twenty, was the Ozark foothills. The area of Jefferson County where we lived was a bounty of release - I spent countless hours wandering old horse trails, following streams, finding glades, hidden long-abandoned farmsteads and remote cemeteries where I could escape the stresses and problems at home and in school. As an adult, I got a brief reprieve when I again returned to Jefferson County, to live in the same sacred space where you are now. While I never get homesick for Missouri, I do long for the beauty, serenity and solitude of my time in House Springs and even moreso, the old Camp Dunsinane. It's a very genuine ache and your posts, pictures and blogs make me feel connected again, my friend. Thank you for posting these!
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