Our waterfall dressed in Spring Green. Isn’t she lovely?
Escaping into Nature is good for us. The sound of falling water tumbling over stones and the color green have been proven stress-reducers. I feel so blessed this view is just steps from my back door. There is no trouble that she can’t soothe or day that she can’t brighten. I invite you to take a drink from her waters!
Sewing is my passion
Shelley M. White -Author: Cannabis for Lyme disease // Clinical Herbalist: Lyme disease and co-infections // Yoga Instructor // Nutritionist
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Eliza Waters 
Idyllic Eliza!
Thanks, Frank. I agree, it is pretty idyllic. 🙂
Incredibly beautiful. Looks like a postcard. You chose well:)
It was the selling point as far as I was concerned when we bought the place. 🙂 I had to have that waterfall!
I love running water! The sound just fills you with peace and well-being.
Indeed, it quiets the mind and is so soothing!
Oh, Eliza, this is just gorgeous and so refreshing. Thank you! Love, Amy
Thanks, Amy! I posted this and then saw your post – water must be the cosmic theme!
Water is healing, Eliza. And boy do I need it right now. My nerves are a wreck dealing with a very ill Rusty. xx Amy
beautiful! i feel calm just looking at it! xx
🙂
truly amazing +thank you for sharing your beauty:-) just steps away that would be heaven, right?
Absolutely heavenly! 🙂
Absolutely gorgeous!
Thanks!
The waterfall is beautiful! Actually, the green dress matches her eyes. That is heaven on earth. You are so lucky, Eliza… 🙂
Thanks so much, I do feel blessed to live here. 🙂
Beautiful. I could sit nearby for hours. I can practically hear it.
You are welcome to any time!
🙂
Wow – this looks to be a wonderful place to sit and look and listen. Don’t you love the sound of the water cascading? A lovely post Eliza and a delightful photo.
Falling water is the best, most soothing sound. When I am outside I hear it and when the windows are open at night, I fall asleep to its lullaby. 🙂
Nature is a sanctuary and a healer! Lovely shots.
Thanks, Fi!
What a jewel to have out back, Eliza. It’s wonderful. 🙂
Thank you, Michael! Have a great weekend.
Eliza, hope you don’t mind this.. But this post immediately brings to mind this! Thanks!
Romance Sonambulo
Federico García Lorca, 1898 – 1936
(skip to the original poem in Spanish)
Green, how I want you green.
Green wind. Green branches.
The ship out on the sea
and the horse on the mountain.
With the shade around her waist
she dreams on her balcony,
green flesh, her hair green,
with eyes of cold silver.
Green, how I want you green.
Under the gypsy moon,
all things are watching her
and she cannot see them.
Green, how I want you green.
Big hoarfrost stars
come with the fish of shadow
that opens the road of dawn.
The fig tree rubs its wind
with the sandpaper of its branches,
and the forest, cunning cat,
bristles its brittle fibers.
But who will come? And from where?
She is still on her balcony
green flesh, her hair green,
dreaming in the bitter sea.
–My friend, I want to trade
my horse for her house,
my saddle for her mirror,
my knife for her blanket.
My friend, I come bleeding
from the gates of Cabra.
–If it were possible, my boy,
I’d help you fix that trade.
But now I am not I,
nor is my house now my house.
–My friend, I want to die
decently in my bed.
Of iron, if that’s possible,
with blankets of fine chambray.
Don’t you see the wound I have
from my chest up to my throat?
–Your white shirt has grown
thirsty dark brown roses.
Your blood oozes and flees a
round the corners of your sash.
But now I am not I,
nor is my house now my house.
–Let me climb up, at least,
up to the high balconies;
Let me climb up! Let me,
up to the green balconies.
Railings of the moon
through which the water rumbles.
Now the two friends climb up,
up to the high balconies.
Leaving a trail of blood.
Leaving a trail of teardrops.
Tin bell vines
were trembling on the roofs.
A thousand crystal tambourines
struck at the dawn light.
Green, how I want you green,
green wind, green branches.
The two friends climbed up.
The stiff wind left
in their mouths, a strange taste
of bile, of mint, and of basil
My friend, where is she–tell me–
where is your bitter girl?
How many times she waited for you!
How many times would she wait for you,
cool face, black hair,
on this green balcony!
Over the mouth of the cistern
the gypsy girl was swinging,
green flesh, her hair green,
with eyes of cold silver.
An icicle of moon
holds her up above the water.
The night became intimate
like a little plaza.
Drunken “Guardias Civiles”
were pounding on the door.
Green, how I want you green.
Green wind. Green branches.
The ship out on the sea.
And the horse on the mountain.
Verde que te quiero verde.
Verde viento. Verdes ramas.
El barco sobre la mar
y el caballo en la montaña.
Con la sombra en la cintura
ella sueña en su baranda,
verde carne, pelo verde,
con ojos de fría plata.
Verde que te quiero verde.
Bajo la luna gitana,
las cosas la están mirando
y ella no puede mirarlas.
Verde que te quiero verde.
Grandes estrellas de escarcha
vienen con el pez de sombra
que abre el camino del alba.
La higuera frota su viento
con la lija de sus ramas,
y el monte, gato garduño,
eriza sus pitas agrias.
¿Pero quién vendra? ¿Y por dónde…?
Ella sigue en su baranda,
Verde came, pelo verde,
soñando en la mar amarga.
–Compadre, quiero cambiar
mi caballo por su casa,
mi montura por su espejo,
mi cuchillo per su manta.
Compadre, vengo sangrando,
desde los puertos de Cabra.
–Si yo pudiera, mocito,
este trato se cerraba.
Pero yo ya no soy yo,
ni mi casa es ya mi casa.
–Compadre, quiero morir
decentemente en mi cama.
De acero, si puede ser,
con las sábanas de holanda.
¿No ves la herida que tengo
desde el pecho a la garganta?
–Trescientas rosas morenas
lleva tu pechera blanca.
Tu sangre rezuma y huele
alrededor de tu faja.
Pero yo ya no soy yo,
ni mi casa es ya mi casa.
–Dejadme subir al menos
hasta las altas barandas;
¡dejadme subir!, dejadme,
hasta las verdes barandas.
Barandales de la luna
por donde retumba el agua.
Ya suben los dos compadres
hacia las altas barandas.
Dejando un rastro de sangre.
Dejando un rastro de lágrimas.
Temblaban en los tejados
farolillos de hojalata.
Mil panderos de cristal
herían la madrugada.
Verde que te quiero verde,
verde viento, verdes ramas.
Los dos compadres subieron.
El largo viento dejaba
en la boca un raro gusto
de hiel, de menta y de albahaca.
¡Compadre! ¿Donde está, díme?
¿Donde está tu niña amarga?
¡Cuántas veces te esperó!
¡Cuántas veces te esperara,
cara fresca, negro pelo,
en esta verde baranda!
Sobre el rostro del aljibe
se mecía la gitana.
Verde carne, pelo verde,
con ojos de fría plata.
Un carámbano de luna
la sostiene sobre el agua.
La noche se puso íntima
como una pequeña plaza.
Guardias civiles borrachos
en la puerta golpeaban.
Verde que te qinero verde.
Verde viento. Verdes ramas.
El barco sobre la mar.
Y el caballo en la montaña.
From The Selected Poems of Federico García Lorca, translated by William Logan. Published by New Directions, 1955. Used with permission.
Thanks for sharing the poem. I can practice my Spanish. 🙂
The poem is so much better when read aloud in Spanish! Abrazos, Amiga!
Gracias!
Wow, you are blessed to be able to bask in this beauty everyday, just stepping outside your house! It’s beautiful! Thank You so much for sharing! Just looking at the photo and reading the words has a healing/soothing effect. ❤
Glad you found it so, it was just the feeling I was hoping to convey. Blessings!
My favourite colour is green. Absolutely breathtaking and serene!
Thanks, Linda. Green is my favorite color, too. Maybe that is why I love summer so much!
You make me long for the NE. Such a beautiful part of the country.
I have to agree with you, but lucky for us, that is true for so many parts!
Oh, now I want to come live with you for a while. Get the spare room ready. 😉
wow – imagine having your own, real natural true waterfall!
I am in awe.
I love our waterfall. When we looked at the house to buy, it was the water feature that sold me on the place. 🙂