Lost Valley

I've got a long, vastly gushing tome about my garden all written up, but I have yet to take pictures of said Eden, so I decided to postpone it and give you all a taste of a different Eden--that is, Eden Falls in Lost Valley (between Boxley and Ponca in northwest Arkansas). We went today and it was gorgeous--the weather was a nice 75 degrees, and the natural world we beheld--well, it took our collective breath away. Pictures can't do it justice, but that doesn't stop me from trying.

First, we have Casey and MyBoy, at the trailhead, mapping our route:

We found a tree that had been gouged by lightening, so of COURSE we had to get in it and take a pic. Can you find MyGirl?

I don't know WHY MyBoy always has to look like a wild animal . . .

. . .methinks it must be in the genes.

One of the wondrous sights to see at Lost Valley is the H.U.G.E. natural amphitheatere. Really, I can't describe the scope of its enormity--but I can say that the teeny-tiny white dot in the center/right-hand corner of the pic is MyGirl, so maybe you can get an idea of how big it is.

Eden Falls.

We climbed into Eden Falls Cave, which was a treat--at first, you have to get into the cave without slipping off the waterfall. Then, once inside, you have to crawl on your hands and knees through mud and icy water for about 100 feet, before getting to "the room." It's worth it--a grand-sized room with an underground waterfall. This is a pic of MyGirl under that fall--we had to train our flashlights on her to get it to come out. Without the lights, it is pitch black (as most caves are). A special bonus was the bats that flew around our faces and dangled on the ledges where we put our hands as we crawled around. Luckily, I've always kind of liked the little flying rats, so no worries there.

One of the "lesser" falls. There are some amazing deep rose tones to some of the bluffs.

 

 

They fight, but they do love each other.

 

We found another big tree, which had been cut down (one can only assume because of ice-storm damage). Of course, Casey had to crawl in . . .

. . .and then MyGirl had to try.

Ahem. It's true; we are just too precious for words. Nineteen years in August and we still kind of dig each other. Go figure.

Oh, you needed a close-up of that, right?

I do so love spring in the Ozarks.