Once on my travels, I came across a waterfall.

It was nestled within a vast glen, surrounded by beautiful trees.  It's sparkling water cascaded into the lagoon below, spraying water all over.

            The lagoon was filled with people, so many that it seemed there wasn't enough room for them all.  Some people were basking in the sunlight, the spray smoothly moistening their skin, keeping them cool.  They relaxed endlessly.

            Other people were swimming in the water, enjoying themselves, playing and having a great time. They kicked up arcs of water which caught the light and cast shimmering patterns on the surface of the lake.

            People were competing.  They raced each other to different parts of the lagoon - to this rock, then that rock, then the shore (though they never got out of the water), then to the base of the falls.  Some people couldn't handle the competition and were dragged down into the depths.  They didn't resurface.

            The waterfall itself was a sight to behold.  Glorious in it's majesty, it towered above all else, and vanished out of sight at the top, seeming to disappear into the clouds.  Puzzling to me was that people were dotted about on it, at various heights.

            I saw that some brave people were trying to swim up it's ever falling water, to reach the top.  Others were trying to climb the rock wall behind it, suffering a bruising assault from the falling torrent.  Some wiser ones leapt carefully and with agility to scale the falls.