After I left my friends mother, I moved to a camping spot along the river. As I sat along the river, swollen with winter snow run off and spring rains I was drawn in and stunned by the beauty and power of the mighty river.
I sit on a rock near the swinging bridge watching the waves crash by as they tumble along the rivers edge. Before long I become absorbed in a drama taking place within the river. I see a log, created by the all mighty, sculpted into a log cut by man.
In some events unknown to me, the log has made its way to the river. It is now being tossed about in the torrents of the river, bumping along the shore of the river circling back and forth. It inches along in forward motion trying to break away from the currents hold to move down the river.
The current grabs hold of the log pushing it back to where the log first came. Again and again the log struggles against the power of the river, thrusting forward then drug back into the current, repeating the dance over and over again.
I am reminded of my friends mother, struggling against the disease that is robbing her of her today's and tomorrows. She struggles, and struggles and in a moment she breaks free and is rewarded with a sweet memory.
Resting temporarily against the shore before the log is picked up by the current to begin the process again and again.
Then as it inches forward, suddenly it breaks free of the repeating pattern and is thrust forward into swift main river channel. As swiftly as it moves into the channel, the current smashes it towards the shore into an opening within the rock formations.
There it begins the circle of escape moving within the currents of the enclosed water trapped by fallen logs and rocks. It is trapped again in a new reality as it circles and circles awaiting the moment when the moment of sweet release moves it on further in its journey.
We are all traveling our own journey, circling then plunging into new paths. Some of our journeys are of our own design, some paths of destiny over which circles we have little control.
The river, full of mysteries and a reflection of our lives of turmoil.
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Beautifully written post.
ReplyDeleteThese are really beautiful pictures of the river and reflections on life's struggles. My best wishes to your friend's mother and her family. It is a rough road. What is the name we have given this powerful river?
ReplyDeleteIt is the Spokane River,in a State Park not far from Spokane.
ReplyDeleteI identify with this post…
ReplyDeleteLife is a river.
Box Canyon Mark
perfectly said my dear friend. I love what your "eyes" see and how eloquently you present it. You make me think and I thank you and love you for that. <3
ReplyDelete