Well my heart just raced reading this! Over the years, Rebecca has forged her own path and we, her parents, have watched with wonder and trepidation at her adventures. We suspected that we were told an edited version to save our hearts and this account confirms it! She is brave and fearless and writes so beautifully that we feel we are experiencing her adventures vicariously - that she finds such light in dark/dangerous situations is humbling. However, my heart rate has only just gone back down after expecting a calming read over a lazy Sunday morning breakfast. Carry on keeping us on ours toes Rebecca xx
Your daughter is a fine writer and I have rarely come across anyone in print brave, fearless and so attuned to beauty who didn't trace at least some of those qualities to their parents. But yes perhaps a parental warning next time? :)
Ok, I hope you don’t mind me saying there’s quite a big part of me that would like to hear some more about this (miraculous) adventure, the hike sounds extraordinary, and a wee bit of me would kind of like to know how on earth you got dry, and safe, and met up with your partner again and and and. It is heartwarming to remember that normal people are kind and caring, and want others to be safe and well too, especially when you fall over a waterfall, yes especially then!
Thankfully the tent was not too far from the lake! My partner's way of telling this story begins with... I woke up to her telling me she fell down the waterfall but I didn't believe her until I realised she was wet through... 😅 perhaps I'll write a longer version of this story sometime (with details of the hike, because it was incredible!) x
Rebecca, I am in love with this story. That his eyes spoke a universal language! Isn’t that the rub? There is, undoubtedly, shared among us a depth of concern and desire to assist, told so beautifully in this moment with the waterfall and the man in the fishing boat. And yet, the systems created by those who would seek power end up lacking this deeply human thing.
To kindness, to defiance, to this part of our nature rising to the top.
I have a distinct image in my head of an owl personified, cocking its head to one side and regarding you with concern and warmth. What a beautiful depiction!
I have no stories as dramatic, but I will always remember the people who asked if I was ok, said a kind word, made a joke when I was too preoccupied for humour or checked in when I'd gone quiet. Some people are terrible, some people are kind, but humanity as a whole is pretty damn excellent.
How wonderful it is to share the goodness of our fellow humans. We need these reminders during these dark days of concern and uncertainty in the precarious state of the freedoms we have come to count on in our lives. Thank you for the Owl-Eyed Fisherman, a beautiful account of kindness. I'm very glad you made it through that experience!
Goodness, Rebecca, what a story! Like others I would like to know how you made it back to your partner but the owl man was your guiding light and saviour, he had probably witnessed you tip over the waterfall. Quite terrifying.
Content aside your writing is, as ever, fascinating, electrifying, brilliant. Thank you for sharing and taking my mind off all the crap in the world. Totally and utterly agree with your anger and sentiment.
Rosalind, thank you so much for this lovely comment! I'm so glad you liked this story. Luckily the tent was not too far from the waterfall so it was just a short and rather bedraggled walk back to my sleeping and blissfully unaware partner!
I'd love to do that walk - minus the falling over the waterfall bit. I've abseiled a lot of waterfalls, and jumped a good few - but always knowing what was at the bottom!
I have a really good idea of just how easy that is to happen, Rebecca, and how lucky you were to get away with it, and what a craaaazy headspace that must have put you in. Wow.....
As for the sentiment and the reason for you posting this - we are behind you one billion percent.
Thank you Dave and Meg! The walk is incredible. We hope to go back and complete it at some point (also minus the falling over the waterfall bit ;) ). I really recommend it!
that was beautiful / yes my god, humans are good, aren’t they? / thank you for reminding us / one time i got washed away in a flash flood right here in my city / i was on my way home and tried to cross a rushing torrent flowing down broadway a normally friendly and familiar street / one step into that current and i was knocked down bike and all and swept away sliding down the gutter on my back / like you i couldn't find anything to grab onto so i just kept sliding / finally i grabbed something - the edge of the curb i think and dragged myself out bicycle and all / i noticed a nearby pickup truck that seemed to be idling so i went over and there was a person inside / apparantly they had witnessed the whole thing and had probably been wondering how do i save this person without getting swept away myself / anyways he offered me a ride home / it was pouring rain / i threw my bike in the back and crawled in the cab and we navigating through the thunderstorm together
Rohn thank you so much for sharing this story! How scary that must have been, especially because it was in such a familiar place, and how lovely to have someone there to go to and to drive you home. People are good!
There are an uncountable number of stars in the universe, and their light shines across the deepest dark and vastness of the void. I also have felt my heart pounding and fists clenched in protest and horror. We are the stars. Starlight seek starlight. Spread the light. Shine on.
My very first post on Substack is about a human kindness. I plan to write more of them because there are so many helpful, beautiful people on the planet. Thank you for sharing your story.
What a story! The moment I love best, aside from the amazing kindness of the fisherman, was the moment of gratitude you felt for the sky as you fell. What a beautiful moment of grace.
I don't have a story anywhere near as dramatic, but a moment of human kindness that has always stuck with me also has to do with an encounter with a stranger while hiking. I was a teenager and hadn't been diagnosed with asthma yet, but my stamina was still poor. I was hiking in Glacier National Park in Montana with my dad and my brothers and sister. Somehow I'd gotten separated from them. They were all going much faster than I was and no one was paying attention to the fact that I was lagging behind. I started to get dizzy and I realized I couldn't go any further and I sat down on a rock in the middle of a place where the path suddenly got very vertical. I sat there and cried because I was all alone and there was no way to contact my family to let them no. I started stopping hikers who passed-- asking those going up to pass on the message that I was stuck, asking those coming down if they'd seen my family-- hungry for any news of them. None of the passing hikers was terribly helpful and then there was this man who saw my distress and really saw me. He sat down next to me and talked to me for a while, gave me the gift of his presence and his attention. He pulled a book out of his pocket and read to me-- I think it was something from the Bible, though I was never able to find the passage again. But whatever it was, if was comforting. Perhaps not even so much the words as the fact that this stranger was caring for me in this way. Eventually I was calmer and he eventually stood up and hiked down the mountain and eventually my family came and I yelled a them for leaving me behind. And I'm still angry I didn't make it up to the glacial lake that was the endpoint of that hike. But the sting of the memory is mostly dulled by the kindness of the man who stopped.
Oh Melanie this was such a lovely story to read, I'm so glad that man stopped and gave you the comfort you needed. Some people, like that man, really see others' distress in a way that I think is quite rare. They are such attuned and wonderful people, and they stick with us for a long time, don't they? Thank you for sharing this story!
Oh what joy. What absolute freaking-me-out joy. I have no story like this, not even. I'm not sure I'd even want one like it. Have I ever had a near miss? Only as an infant, when I was ill and almost died, when my granny saved me. And maybe more than once come to think of it, having been pulled up from the water myself when I was not yet two years old. But that milk of human kindness? Yes. Yes, of course. I'd say that whenever I've needed people, they show up, in the ways that people just keep showing up for each other. They explain things to me that need explaining. They open windows and sometimes push me through. My husband. He has pushed me through many windows. My teachers. The livelong daylights of the books of my world. And the man who stopped his truck and gave me, my friend, and my brother a ride back to camp after we hiked up the ridge and drank from a little spring almost choking with white flowers.
Well my heart just raced reading this! Over the years, Rebecca has forged her own path and we, her parents, have watched with wonder and trepidation at her adventures. We suspected that we were told an edited version to save our hearts and this account confirms it! She is brave and fearless and writes so beautifully that we feel we are experiencing her adventures vicariously - that she finds such light in dark/dangerous situations is humbling. However, my heart rate has only just gone back down after expecting a calming read over a lazy Sunday morning breakfast. Carry on keeping us on ours toes Rebecca xx
🤍🤍🤍 (I should have put a parental warning on this one ;) ) xxx
Your daughter is a fine writer and I have rarely come across anyone in print brave, fearless and so attuned to beauty who didn't trace at least some of those qualities to their parents. But yes perhaps a parental warning next time? :)
Ok, I hope you don’t mind me saying there’s quite a big part of me that would like to hear some more about this (miraculous) adventure, the hike sounds extraordinary, and a wee bit of me would kind of like to know how on earth you got dry, and safe, and met up with your partner again and and and. It is heartwarming to remember that normal people are kind and caring, and want others to be safe and well too, especially when you fall over a waterfall, yes especially then!
Thankfully the tent was not too far from the lake! My partner's way of telling this story begins with... I woke up to her telling me she fell down the waterfall but I didn't believe her until I realised she was wet through... 😅 perhaps I'll write a longer version of this story sometime (with details of the hike, because it was incredible!) x
Oh yes that would we a great story!
Me too, I had those questions and I want the same answers
Rebecca, I am in love with this story. That his eyes spoke a universal language! Isn’t that the rub? There is, undoubtedly, shared among us a depth of concern and desire to assist, told so beautifully in this moment with the waterfall and the man in the fishing boat. And yet, the systems created by those who would seek power end up lacking this deeply human thing.
To kindness, to defiance, to this part of our nature rising to the top.
Yesss to this part of our nature rising to the top!! 🤍 I'm so glad you enjoyed this one Holly 😊
I have a distinct image in my head of an owl personified, cocking its head to one side and regarding you with concern and warmth. What a beautiful depiction!
I have no stories as dramatic, but I will always remember the people who asked if I was ok, said a kind word, made a joke when I was too preoccupied for humour or checked in when I'd gone quiet. Some people are terrible, some people are kind, but humanity as a whole is pretty damn excellent.
Yes! To the fisherman as an owl and to humanity being pretty damn excellent!
How wonderful it is to share the goodness of our fellow humans. We need these reminders during these dark days of concern and uncertainty in the precarious state of the freedoms we have come to count on in our lives. Thank you for the Owl-Eyed Fisherman, a beautiful account of kindness. I'm very glad you made it through that experience!
I'm so glad you enjoyed it Heidi! 🤍
Goodness, Rebecca, what a story! Like others I would like to know how you made it back to your partner but the owl man was your guiding light and saviour, he had probably witnessed you tip over the waterfall. Quite terrifying.
Content aside your writing is, as ever, fascinating, electrifying, brilliant. Thank you for sharing and taking my mind off all the crap in the world. Totally and utterly agree with your anger and sentiment.
Rosalind, thank you so much for this lovely comment! I'm so glad you liked this story. Luckily the tent was not too far from the waterfall so it was just a short and rather bedraggled walk back to my sleeping and blissfully unaware partner!
Your in-the-moment reaction to your near-drowning is hugely revelatory of the contents and resilience of your soul Rebecca. Impressive!
We are in desperate need of more people in safe boats worrying about those who are flailing for the lack of one.
Baird, what a wonderful way to put it - we do need more of that in the world, a thousand yeses!
Yes! What Sarah said...
I'd love to do that walk - minus the falling over the waterfall bit. I've abseiled a lot of waterfalls, and jumped a good few - but always knowing what was at the bottom!
I have a really good idea of just how easy that is to happen, Rebecca, and how lucky you were to get away with it, and what a craaaazy headspace that must have put you in. Wow.....
As for the sentiment and the reason for you posting this - we are behind you one billion percent.
Love from Australia
Dave and Meg :)
Thank you Dave and Meg! The walk is incredible. We hope to go back and complete it at some point (also minus the falling over the waterfall bit ;) ). I really recommend it!
that was beautiful / yes my god, humans are good, aren’t they? / thank you for reminding us / one time i got washed away in a flash flood right here in my city / i was on my way home and tried to cross a rushing torrent flowing down broadway a normally friendly and familiar street / one step into that current and i was knocked down bike and all and swept away sliding down the gutter on my back / like you i couldn't find anything to grab onto so i just kept sliding / finally i grabbed something - the edge of the curb i think and dragged myself out bicycle and all / i noticed a nearby pickup truck that seemed to be idling so i went over and there was a person inside / apparantly they had witnessed the whole thing and had probably been wondering how do i save this person without getting swept away myself / anyways he offered me a ride home / it was pouring rain / i threw my bike in the back and crawled in the cab and we navigating through the thunderstorm together
Rohn thank you so much for sharing this story! How scary that must have been, especially because it was in such a familiar place, and how lovely to have someone there to go to and to drive you home. People are good!
There are an uncountable number of stars in the universe, and their light shines across the deepest dark and vastness of the void. I also have felt my heart pounding and fists clenched in protest and horror. We are the stars. Starlight seek starlight. Spread the light. Shine on.
Beautiful words Susan, thank you 🌟
My very first post on Substack is about a human kindness. I plan to write more of them because there are so many helpful, beautiful people on the planet. Thank you for sharing your story.
Oh I will have to go and have a read! I hope you do write more. I think the world is thirsting for stories of kindness right now.
Quite apart from the value of the story, thank you for the beautiful writing.
I'm so glad you enjoyed it, Wendy x
What a story! The moment I love best, aside from the amazing kindness of the fisherman, was the moment of gratitude you felt for the sky as you fell. What a beautiful moment of grace.
I don't have a story anywhere near as dramatic, but a moment of human kindness that has always stuck with me also has to do with an encounter with a stranger while hiking. I was a teenager and hadn't been diagnosed with asthma yet, but my stamina was still poor. I was hiking in Glacier National Park in Montana with my dad and my brothers and sister. Somehow I'd gotten separated from them. They were all going much faster than I was and no one was paying attention to the fact that I was lagging behind. I started to get dizzy and I realized I couldn't go any further and I sat down on a rock in the middle of a place where the path suddenly got very vertical. I sat there and cried because I was all alone and there was no way to contact my family to let them no. I started stopping hikers who passed-- asking those going up to pass on the message that I was stuck, asking those coming down if they'd seen my family-- hungry for any news of them. None of the passing hikers was terribly helpful and then there was this man who saw my distress and really saw me. He sat down next to me and talked to me for a while, gave me the gift of his presence and his attention. He pulled a book out of his pocket and read to me-- I think it was something from the Bible, though I was never able to find the passage again. But whatever it was, if was comforting. Perhaps not even so much the words as the fact that this stranger was caring for me in this way. Eventually I was calmer and he eventually stood up and hiked down the mountain and eventually my family came and I yelled a them for leaving me behind. And I'm still angry I didn't make it up to the glacial lake that was the endpoint of that hike. But the sting of the memory is mostly dulled by the kindness of the man who stopped.
Oh Melanie this was such a lovely story to read, I'm so glad that man stopped and gave you the comfort you needed. Some people, like that man, really see others' distress in a way that I think is quite rare. They are such attuned and wonderful people, and they stick with us for a long time, don't they? Thank you for sharing this story!
So beautiful, plus your voice, just what I needed today. Thank you so much ❤️
Thank you Diana, I am so glad to hear this!
What remarkable kindness. What remarkable writing. Thank you for this ♡
Thank you! 🤍
Oh what joy. What absolute freaking-me-out joy. I have no story like this, not even. I'm not sure I'd even want one like it. Have I ever had a near miss? Only as an infant, when I was ill and almost died, when my granny saved me. And maybe more than once come to think of it, having been pulled up from the water myself when I was not yet two years old. But that milk of human kindness? Yes. Yes, of course. I'd say that whenever I've needed people, they show up, in the ways that people just keep showing up for each other. They explain things to me that need explaining. They open windows and sometimes push me through. My husband. He has pushed me through many windows. My teachers. The livelong daylights of the books of my world. And the man who stopped his truck and gave me, my friend, and my brother a ride back to camp after we hiked up the ridge and drank from a little spring almost choking with white flowers.
Oh thank you for sharing these little snippets of kindness, Rebecca! And I just love the phrase you use - 'that milk of human kindness' 🤍