When Jessie says Silver Falls State Park is one of her favourite places on the planet, I believe her. It’s almost April and the countryside is embroidered with flowers in a multitude of shapes and colours. We are standing behind the majestic South Falls— my first experience of standing behind a dancing veil of smokey water— silently, spraying cooling our faces. The rocks are damp with velvety pockets of atrociously green moss. Shards of sunlight sparkle like diamantes on the pool below the cascade. I do not jump in ecstasy. Instead, I stand close to Jessie, perhaps for assurance from a fellow human being, and stare in awe at the abundance that envelopes our insignificant selves.