This July, Rex and I spent a refreshing week away from it all in Snowbird, Utah, several thousand feet above the Salt Lake plain. From our window we could see this waterfall, gushing with snow melt from a late Spring and summer. At the top of the mountain, reached by cable car, you could walk through patches of snow that turned into thin trickles of water. As we hovered many feet above the ground in a ski lift on the return journey to the ski resort, we could see how the trickles had picked up speed and joined other rivulets. They began to merge into a serious stream that became the waterfall on the hillside, and the rushing river below our balcony that lulled us to sleep at night.