Ebb and Flow of Things

At 7 AM Saturday morning, it was 18 degrees. It was feeling like winter again. Back to plugging in the heaters.

Tank heater

Bucket heater

Kitty water bowl heater

And barn pump heater
The mud froze into a rough, uneven, twisted ankle hazard.

But Java was thrilled to find a new cache of poopsicles.

Between having lunch with a friend and going to an extra afternoon choir rehearsal today, Java and I went for a walk at the Rum River.

The river is high but it has dropped some since yesterday. You can tell how much if you look closely at the trees and see the wet bark, showing how high the river had been.

The walking path disappeared in a couple places. Here Java and I were able to go off to the side of the path to make our way around the water.

Here we had to go quite a bit off course, taking a horse trail uphill and around.

Some of the horse trails were flooded also.

At the worst spot of flooding, a woman was sitting beside the river and she told me, “This is as far as I could go so I thought I’d just sit and contemplate. There is something so beautiful about the river when it’s like this.”

And she’s right. This isn’t a raging flooded river, like the ones that make the news. It’s come up into the flood plains, with no danger of flooding anyone’s home or washing any cars away. And it is beautiful and amazing — the cycle of things — the ebb and flow.

Sorry, I’m waxing poetic on you. Mainly because I don’t know how to describe the way that rivers make me feel.

They each have their own personality, some just amble peacefully along like the Rum, while others are filled with rapids and sharp rocks. And just like humans, rivers are changeable. There are times of flood and times of drought and the resulting algae filled sludgyness.

And as I watch the river I only know that it is going somewhere — I’m not sure where. And maybe that explains the kinship I feel.

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  1. What a beautiful thought comparing the river to one’s life. I’m so glad the river wasn’t any worse than it was. I’m sure it rose high enough by the water marks on the trees. Java looks to be in deep thought in the last pic.

    God bless ya and have a great week!!!

  2. So well said, as always. I’ve often felt people/life are like rivers, always moving, changing, bringing you somewhere else, or other things towards you.

  3. I’ll have to think about what rivers say from a literary perspective, but I did once worth with a girl who had a mantra-like thing in her cube that said, “Follow the River.”

    Could be survival advice if lost in the wilderness. Could be bigger than that. Not sure.

    We only have a tiny stream on our land, but I love listening to it.

  4. Lori – Thanks. I love that photo too.

    Nezzy – Yes, even Java seemed amazed at the site of the river being so high.

    Sue – So true. I’m sure you’ve been watching your own river lately. Maybe thinking floatilla thoughts…

    Roxanne – I like that, “follow the river” or stream works too. My favorite water sound is the sound of waves, be it a lake or the ocean. So relaxing.

  5. I love your last paragraph. So perfect and so true.

    Your river is so pretty, blue and reflective. Our river, the mighty Rio Grande is always like melted chocolate, brown and thick and slow.

    I had to giggle when you wrote about Java eating poopcicles….because in the very next sentence you wrote about lunch with a friend. lol!


  6. Lisa – Glad to give you a laugh. I forget sometimes that some people do get grossed out by such things. Been on the farm too long I guess…

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