Paddles are optional. 😊😊😊
I love the metaphor of streams parting and rejoining further on. When I was a little boy, I believed that all the brooks and streams went somewhere, joined others to form mighty rivers in lands far away. When I grew up a bit I learned - to my bitter disappointment - that they often ended up in a slough in some farmer’s field. Later on I made my peace with the sloughs... they made for excellent waterfowl hunting.
The middle of the river is where the action is. That’s where the fish are feeding, The water is at its deepest and fastest...and rest and tranquility is found in the pools and bends. I used to think I could navigate life’s river, but I was just so much detritus pushed by currents I couldn’t resist. I learned that I didn’t care for the white water, and chose the slower flows when I could.
The Norse thought that the tree was the metaphor for life... but I think the river is a better likeness. Where does this one start? Where does it end? I feel like that little boy I was, in rubber boots Watching the light play in the depths and ripples.
Even the smallest rivers and creeks have ample
room for plans, souls and imaginations.
Calm waters to you - and have a great Tuesday!