Sometimes hiking is like a dream. Yesterday was one of those days. Few people were on the trail; that alone was surreal, especially on a warm spring day. Beauty and surprise were abundant.

I was walking along the River Trail near LaSalle Canyon. The mighty Illinois was high and rough. I saw a duck bouncing madly in the waves. I watched to see if she was eating. Her beak and head bobbed in the water. Something was off. Her posture was strange. I thought about throwing a rock near her, but what if she was sick and I hit her? I looked around to see if anyone was watching. Maybe I was on Candid Camera. I laughed a little at the silliness of that idea. If she was still there on the way back, I would know she was a decoy and I had fallen for a prank, planned or orchestrated by chance.

I saw half a dozen giant birds. They were white with black wingtips, gliding in a perfect line, not side by side but single file. They followed one other up and down. I thought they might dive into the water, but they didn’t. They simply skimmed it and rose, drifting in unison on the air current. The sight was strange and wonderful. A few minutes later, I saw a similar bird, but this one was alone and much closer in proximity. It was massive with a long flat orange beak. Was the flying beast a pelican? It sure looked like a pelican. I couldn’t believe the huge gangly creature could fly.

My mind pondered peculiar bird mysteries as I turned away from the river and moved toward the quiet canyon. There was no wind in LaSalle. The sun was high and bright, and the air was warm. The walls were steep, and the path narrow and sandy. This canyon never disappoints with an early display of pink, white, and light purple wildflowers along the trail. The sound of falling water got progressively louder as I walked high above the stream that would eventually feed the river. With each turn, I was surprised there were no others. I was thrilled to be alone in such a majestic place. Good trails, solitude, sun, and Nature is the perfect combination, I thought.

I was awestruck, as usual, when I came to the tremendous waterfall. I took a few pictures, but they never capture the majesty. I tossed my backpack aside and walked carefully across the massive angled surface to reach the area behind the towering waterfall. I shivered. The rocks were cold, and so was the water that tumbled heavily to the ground. Occasionally an enormous icy drop would fall from the condensation on the ceiling and land on my head with a startling plop.

I squatted in the wet sand with my back to the canyon wall while water thundered in my ears. I closed my eyes. Listening was like a meditation, going in in in. I crouched quietly until I was cold and stiff. I stood slowly and looked around at the magic that surrounded me.

What a beautiful world we live in. I saw PELICANS! I hiked along a flowery trail into a canyon without seeing a soul and hung out behind a waterfall in peace. Who gets to do such things? These thoughts occupied my mind as I skipped out of the canyon– I didn’t really skip as I was a little sore, and squatting in the cold didn’t help. In my mind, I was skipping, lol.

On the way back, a small group was gathered at the river’s edge near the duck. I laughed. She was still in the same place, and the crowd was trying to decide if she was alive or a decoy. It was a great joke.

My spirits were high, and my heart was full as I drove away from Starved Rock. Sunday was weird, funny, and peaceful. I couldn’t have imagined a better day.

Then I saw an eagle.