Sweet Creek Falls

 As we approached the end of our stay in Florence, the dense sea mist continued to rise and mingle with the grey drizzle, draping a big wet blanket over us. We were forced to acknowledge that we were in the midst of the season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, and of course the endless rain, making it a typical Autumn in Oregon. We embraced it. It made a happy change from the beating heat of the Arizona desert that we had endured for two decades and more.

The colors of Fall were all around us. The leaves fell from the skeletal branches of the trees surrounding us at the campsite, bright, burnt oranges, sunny yellows, mottled greens and chestnut browns carpeting the ground. If we were lucky enough to catch a leaf as it danced and helicoptered to the ground, we held it close to our hearts and made a wish. We could smell the campfires of our neighbors and it prompted us to make our own fire. . We stood with glazed eyes watching the blaze glow in the half light, listening to the spitting flames lick at the wet logs, watching our breath make its own morning mist with every deep sigh, sinking our hands into the pouches of our hoodies. We started thinking about soups and stews for dinner. Every season has its own treasures.

With Henry settled for the day sorting out his latest Pokemon cards that he had picked up at Fred Mayer, Kim and I set out to find Sweet Creek Falls, a famed local beauty spot, recommended to us by the locals in town.

We followed the twists and turns of the Siuslaw River, eerie in the mist. We spied a fairy tale Hansel and Gretel wooden cottage, smoke rising from a stone chimney, a wrap around porch with weathered adirondack chairs positioned for the best view of the river, and a little jetty with a gently bobbing boat, with oars at the ready, at the bottom of the garden. We spotted an elk or two raise their heads as we drove by, lazily watching us from the grassy banks of the river. There was hardly any traffic and we drove in silence enjoying the stillness of the day.

We made a sharp right turn and drove about ten miles or so following Sweet Creek to reach the signposted trailhead.

Well, words cannot adequately describe the quintessential Autumnal scene before us. The colors of the leaves carpeting the path, the waters of the creek with the swirling pools and gentle falls, the surrounding woodlands, dark and deep with promises to keep, was simply idyllic. 

I hope the photos convey the beauty of the scene. We really need Willy Wonka smell-o-vision so we can close our eyes and fully inhale the woodsy smells of the dripping, damp ferns, the tiny lichens and impossibly green mosses, fallen branches, leaves mulched into the muddy ground and the fresh scent of the sweet creek. A true sensory experience.

We walked a five mile round trip on leaf littered pathways, zig-zagging wooden bridges and slick river banks. It was heavenly!

​Breathe it in!