A river of flowers

Peering down into the valley, all I can see is the earthy forest floor. Nothing remarkable. Mainly shades of brown. Decaying leaves, tree stumps, dead branches.

I hear the faint hum of Bronte Creek in the distance. So far the path at Bronte Creek Provincial Park has followed the top of the ravine. It looks like a steep climb down.

Down I go. Into the valley. At the bottom it’s marshy. The dirt path morphs into a boardwalk. On either side, the shallow water is still. Not even any gulping frogs.

I continue along the boardwalk. There is a faint echo with each step on the wooden planks. I look up. I am surrounded by hills and barren trees. It will be a steep climb back up. The rushing water grows louder.

The pops of bright yellow come as a surprise. It’s a cluster of flowers. And another cluster, and yet another. Curious. The little flowers look like buttercups. My eyes follow the yellow path into the distance.

It’s a river of flowers. A blazing stream of yellow flowers sweeping across the valley floor.

Marsh marigolds. Oodles of them.

The hike has turned into an unexpected treasure hunt. I certainly unearthed gold today.