Ascension Rock & Hedge Creek Falls

On the second day, we hiked to Ascension Rock for an activation honoring our parents and ancestors, led by a woman named Rainbow Fire. Ascension Rock is known for its high-vibrational energy, a place many visit for meditation and spiritual connection. Some believe it sits above the Lemurian city of Telos.

It was here that I felt a powerful connection with the mountains and the trees. We were given time alone, so I found a spot to rest my back, laying down under the sun with my spine supported by a tree. After a while, I began to feel the vibration of the trees — their heartbeat — pulsing through the earth. It was incredible. It reminded me of the movie Avatar, where the trees are all connected beneath the surface, communicating and supporting each other. It felt true in that moment, and the connection was beautiful.

Next, we hiked to Hedge Creek Falls, a sacred site known for its tranquility, healing energy, and cleansing spring. We were each invited to dunk in the small pool created by the waterfall. This was a very different kind of polar plunge for me.

My usual New Year’s plunge with the L Street Brownies over the last 15 years has always been about the adrenaline rush. Bagpipes and drums play as soon as the band leaves the local pub in Southie. When they reach the shore, a man with a megaphone counts down to 10. We plungers sprint in and out of the freezing water while TV cameras and newspapers capture the chaos. It’s been a lot of fun — and I still do it — though the fanfare has faded over the years.

But this plunge… this was something else entirely. There was no rushing. No performance. Just a slow, intentional walk over the rocks, fully present. We each took nine breaths beneath the waterfall. The force of the water tried to knock me over, testing my resilience, knocking loose what I no longer needed. Make room for the new, it seemed to say.

The water coming off the mountain was colder than the air, yet it was the cleanest water I’ve ever experienced. No smell. No color. No residue. It tasted alive.

Imagine a future Earth where water this pure is abundant — flowing into our rivers, our communities, and our bodies. Water without chlorine, medications, fluoride, toxins, or waste. Just clean, living water.

On the walk back, my thoughts returned to the trees. They don’t carry regret. They don’t carry shame or guilt or fear. They don’t live in the past or the future. They simply are — fully connected, standing strong and tall, bending only when the wind asks them to.  They are fed by Mother Earth in every way: rain nourishes them, wind strengthens them, sun grows them, soil grounds them, and fire renews them.

I want to be more like a tree.