One February day, high up in the Smoky Mountains, a father and his 4 sons pulled their car to the shoulder of the winding, steep road to admire the majestic beauty of a tumbling waterfall on the side of the mountain. The water fell from high above their heads – from where, they could not see. The powerful force plunged down the vertical, brown rock and crashed intensely to the earth. Then calmly but rapidly, the water carried on into a peaceful stream flowing far out into the distance. Beautiful, wet snowflakes fell softly from the sky, making a blanket of snow on the ground. The brown trees were so numerous and dense, their branches were indiscernible from one tree to another – only defined by a white line of snow that had accumulated enough to graze the upper half of each limb. The freezing temperature had caused a lavish display of crystal icicles, each one unique in shape and size. At the base of the waterfall, some icicles froze into tiny droplets, building on one another unti