Arkansas is a beautiful state. The moniker “The Natural State” often causes a bit of cynical disbelief until the moment a visitor steps onto a hiking trail in one of our many state parks. We might not have big, elaborate features like towering mountains or spectacular waterfalls, but our foothills produce breathtaking views nonetheless. Even the small, easily hiked mountains or the short, dancing waterfalls can awaken a sense of wonder in the most widely traveled of visitors. We know. We’ve encountered them on the trails and heard the surprise in their voices as they extolled the beauty of our state.
But Arkansas is currently also in the throes of a substantial drought. Over 90% of the state is in severe drought or worse, with 40% of the state hitting the highest “exceptional” stage of drought. While not the worst drought in state history, we’re definitely climbing that ladder quite rapidly. For a “natural state,” that can definitely have a negative impact!
Recently, we hiked one of those lovely Arkansas state park trails that we love so much. At times, it was hard to discern the trail from the surrounding ground because all of the terrain was dry and hard-packed. The trees right beside the park’s lake showed fall color transitions, but those further away simply showed the distress of extensive heat and reduced water.
Then we came to the waterfall, formed when a small meandering stream encounters a rock shelf, off of which it cheerfully tumbles into a small pool before finishing its journey to the lake via a narrow, nearby inlet.
At least, that’s what is supposed to happen. Thanks to the drought, the sluggish stream makes it to the rock shelf, but then barely seeps through the cracks in the shelf — enough that moisture is evident, but not enough to even create a drip into the waiting pool below. The pool itself is a fraction of its normal size, and the ground between it and the nearby lake inlet is bone dry. The stream, though still clinging to life, no longer finishes its journey.
It’s easy to be sad about the impact drought has had on our natural state. And as I looked around at this particular stop on our hike, I very keenly felt the absence of the cheerful waterfall. And yet…
As I stood on dry ground in a spot that is normally covered in water and looked toward the shrinking pool, I saw new beauty. I snapped pictures that I never would have been able to take before. My breath caught at the sight of the setting sun reflecting beautifully in the bit of remaining water. I stood in the spot where, under normal circumstances, anyone standing would be drenched in the small falls. Instead of getting wet, I remained comfortably dry while looking back toward a beautiful lake view.
Drought has stolen much of the beauty I typically enjoy. But it had also given me a perspective I’ve never enjoyed before. A perspective that, once our prayers are answered and regular rains return again, I might not be able to enjoy again.
Don’t get me wrong — I desperately long for the rains to return. And yet, I find myself very thankful for the reminder that, even in hardship, beauty remains. Not even in spite of hardship, but because of it. A beauty I would not have experienced without the hardship.
I forget this easily. I see only the negative. The burnt dryness of life caused by too much of this or not enough of that. A reminder of death. Of insufficiency. Of want.
That hike reminded me that times of hardship can also grant me new perspective. A glimpse of surprising beauty. A reminder that, even if I do get back to what I naturally call good, I will never have been completely bereft of beauty even in the worst of the hardship.
And for that perspective of new beauty, I am extraordinarily grateful.
