Alligator Creek


During the early stages of lockdown, my roommates and I embarked on an eight-hour hike to Alligator Creek Falls. My mind was full of anxieties about the new changes and restrictions imposed on us, but the hike made way for some new sights, sounds and thoughts.

Image by: Anais Bond

We walk four,
For hours eight.
Single file along a trail,
And then we climb.

The river hisses,
As we tread its path.
Butterflies dance,
Within the waking forest.
Cicadas sing,
To the beat of our soles.
Leaves rustle,
In the places we follow. 

In the silent green.
I smell the creek,
In the damp hue,
We follow its gentle trickle,
In the winding trek,
Leaves part the way,
In leaving the forest,
We’re greeted by water,

Dark paint strokes,
Casted by clouds,
We, above them all,
Lie in the in between,
Like a stagnant pool,
In a time of change.
Everybody locked inside,
And we, escaping out.

We wade through the creeks,
Studying the springing vines,
Holding onto the branches,
We listen to the ringing,
The forest whispering,
Murmuring, giggling,

Tiani Dun
Master of Science (Marine Biology) | Archive

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