We drove out of Rosewood proper, and hit highway 206 to the Park. Rafe had never been this way and was typical Rafe excited. He started asking questions of me, then started asking his phone even harder ones, like peak height, glacier dissipation in recent years and best off road biking trails. I'd biked Going-to-the-Sun Road several times, but was hoping for something different. He said there was a road that led out of the park to a place called Polebridge, and then down North Fork Road. I told him he wouldn't see the peaks he was talking about that way, mostly forest. He said he was fine with that until we showed our pass at the entrance gate and then drove up to Apgar. I tootled around till the lake was in sight, and the peaks on the far side.

            "Shit." He breathed in pure respect and I laughed. "Find parking. We're going up there."

            I grinned knowingly. "I know a better place."

            Rafe couldn't stop talking about the scenery. Lake McDonald was picturesque, but I knew we were about to see some real knock your socks off scenery.

            It was almost summer. The road was open early, and the waterfalls were in full force. Everything was so green it bombarded your eyes. I'd been to Glacier Park many, many times, too many to count, but it never ceased to astound me with its stark loveliness.

            Around the lake we headed up the curvy two lane road alongside the river. The glacier water tumbled here into pools so green and clear you could see the bottoms. We finally parked at a smaller less traveled pull-out and Rafe, excited, jumped out and would have got the bikes, but I stopped him. There was no off road biking. He was instantly disappointed, ready to be on his bike.

            There was a little trail, lined at first with a cement and rock walkway on one side that tapered to a plain hard packed dirt path. This led downward, and was surrounded on either side by scattered trees, not super close together as they were in various other parts of the park. We could hear the running water.

            "Where does this go?"

            "You'll see." I said, and he could tell by my tone that I was excited to show it to him. Rafe took my hand and swung it, but he--- on the whole--- isn't one to walk along holding hands this way. He is more the type to jog or run along a wooded trail, till he reached the destination. He was holding himself back right now, breathing the thin crisp air, looking around in appreciation and anticipation. Everything about this place had that magical quality that enhanced our own relationship. I was grinning as we loped along, finally me following him, as he spun ahead.

            This particular trail opened very quickly onto some rocks, the path itself ended, and the boulders were brimming with bubbling, splashing white water.

            His eyes got big as he turned to look at me. The sunlight through the trees gave us both an ethereal sparkle.

            "This is unbelievable." He breathed as he climbed on the largest boulder. I was giddy with anticipation, knowing he was about to see even more beauty, so breathtaking he wouldn't be able to contain it.

            I followed him, hopped a couple of gigantic rocks, and stopped as he surveyed the golden clear pools of glacial run off before us. Trees lined the sides, as the pools opened to a small, deep pond, now plummeting with froth.

            "You've been here before?"

            "Yes. I've even swam in it. Not this time of year. As you know, the water here is too cold, but in another month or two, the runoff goes down and it's quite tame."

            He turned to look in all directions, standing out on the point, hands on his hips as he looked about. I, in turn admired him. His dark hair was coming in; his facial hair gave him that roguish look of a pirate. His eyes reflected the crystal clear glacial pools below us.

            Rafe sat down and dangled his legs over the edge of the boulder, right above the largest of the rushing waterfalls. I stood close by, one leg up on the second closest boulder. He didn't turn to me, but I sensed his desire to have me close. I felt like I was developing that sixth sense they sometimes talk about with couples, how they just know each other's thoughts. I really was starting to feel like I knew his. I counted the days we'd known each other--- four. Four measly little days, and realized logic didn't account for my feelings.

            I eased down beside him, our legs almost touching. The spray from the cascading river hitting us as it narrowed into this smaller gorge. His hands were beside him, relaxed. I knew what he was doing--- taking it all in, letting the presence of the water spirits fill his soul.

            I told him so.

            Rafe looked at me. "Do you believe in water spirits?"

            I nodded, gazing into his eyes that seemed like one of the pools now, so clear and reflective were they.

            He smiled in satisfaction and went back to perusing the depths and space of the torrent. It really was a powerful and awesome sight. Nothing else compared to that thrusting hydraulic movement. If one looked up and across the river, the trees stacked against each other upward to the cliffs and the waterfalls above us. I couldn't see them all. They were lit by the clouds and the sunlight behind them.

            A breeze wafted the chill over us, but Rafe sat there for some time--- and we drifted into separate thoughts--- together.

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