Sneaking a peek at fall colors in Shenandoah, I found myself completely at ease hiking on those rocky paths down to the Whiteoak waterfalls or up to the highest peak Hawksbill. Last Saturday when I went to see the Great Falls, my heart fluttered as I walked by those giant sycamores hearing waters rush not far ahead. It was as if one were to meet an old-day lover and couldn't help wondering: has he changed? Nothing has changed, the small creeks along the cross-county trails, the Potomac, or the Shenandoah Valley. But I have.