Years ago when I lived in Columbia, S.C., there was a little creek that flowed through woods near my apartment. Some afternoons I'd walk a path to the railroad tracks, follow the tracks a little distance and then head down to the stream to a favorite spot where I could sit on a log and watch the water flow steadily and constantly through a chute that made it seem like a mountain creek rushing over rocks. I'd gaze at the water. It's movement soothed and and reassured me. The seemingly endless flow of the water as it made its way to the ocean allowed me to contemplate the wonder and permanence of the natural world, which will be here long after our concrete jungles have been reclaimed by the inexorable, unchanging forces of Nature. I felt an intense oneness with Nature at this particular spot, hidden from the city all around it, a oneness that has rarely, if ever, been duplicated.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
The flow of water
Years ago when I lived in Columbia, S.C., there was a little creek that flowed through woods near my apartment. Some afternoons I'd walk a path to the railroad tracks, follow the tracks a little distance and then head down to the stream to a favorite spot where I could sit on a log and watch the water flow steadily and constantly through a chute that made it seem like a mountain creek rushing over rocks. I'd gaze at the water. It's movement soothed and and reassured me. The seemingly endless flow of the water as it made its way to the ocean allowed me to contemplate the wonder and permanence of the natural world, which will be here long after our concrete jungles have been reclaimed by the inexorable, unchanging forces of Nature. I felt an intense oneness with Nature at this particular spot, hidden from the city all around it, a oneness that has rarely, if ever, been duplicated.
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Lovely composition.
ReplyDeleteYour words remind me of a favorite quote from A River Runs Throught It -
ReplyDelete"Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs. I am haunted by waters."