One member of the committee climbed in the car about the time that I realized that there was not gas enough in the vehicle to get back to work again, being mindful that I work VERY close to home.
So, in the interest of training (riding in cars) and in the interest of not biking to work in the pollen laden atmosphere, we went to the local convenience store (an adventure in itself).
We took the scenic route home, through the park... nice place... when you work there and still go back for a restful moment after work...
There was only myself and a little family... a mom and dad, three little boys and a little girl.
Watching the little girl play in the creek, quite unaware of herself being in a dress, brought back memories for me of my own little girl, for whom wearing a dress was like breathing air ...
Finding a roadside waterfall... not caring that the ride home will be all giggly and wet and covered in sand... finding salamanders and chasing small fish in the shallows, childhood laughter flooding historic hills where once a battle raged... what an incredible way to spend a spring evening.
The sound of children, combined with the rush of the water and birdsong certainly has a way of soothing the spirit.
Native Azaleas, one of springs earliest surprises reminding us that beauty abounds .
Some days, the lesson we need to learn is to sit, quietly and reflect... to soak in all that is around us... to appreciate the fine spray of a waterfall, on a cool, yet sunny day, light shadows playing on the water.
He sat, still and quiet, for 45 minutes, never moving, never questioning what he was to do.
Sometimes, to sit along side is all that is necessary... a presence.
I sat still and quiet, not moving, clearing my mind, settling my spirit and centering myself, balancing the days just ahead with the certain knowledge that what is true and solid in life does not change, that in the rush of life the moments spent balancing one's self are worthy and necessary and valuable.
Ahh! It reminds me of a time in my life when I had so much....TIME! Summer mornings in the vegetable garden, my brother and I trying to get finished so that we could get to the creek for swimmin' with cousins and friends in the afternoon. A rope swing, the rock at the "ten foot hole" fed by COLD springs, watermelons floating in the still water until cool, sliding down the falls where the Beaverdam Mill use to be in "ancient" times. I haven't been there since the tenth grade, but the surrounding property was purchased by a private landowner and a fine rustic home built in front of it. Oh, well. I will always have those memories...
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