Dearest,
As I stand on your banks knee deep in mud, I cannot help but write to you with gratitude and wonder. You are pushing winter to the river right before my eyes - the swollen waves and icebergs churning make me think that winter isn't going easily this year. But, you are strong and steadfast in your will. Spring is on your side.
I look to the pines that guide you through the mountains for the eagles that I saw last summer. They love you too, you know. Your waters feed their young the sweetest speckled bounty.
I have seen your colors change like the mood ring on a young girl; all at once black, then green, then greener still, then blue and brown. I often wonder if there is a message there or if it is a whim of yours, a trick to make the time pass.
Man through greed or folly periodically attempts to grab and ruin this lush path you call home. According to the history, we are bound to repeat our mistakes at least once every fifty years or so. But you keep coming back. You still welcome the little ones to swim in the shallows and watch the tadpoles. Thank you for your resiliency and your forgiveness.
My sister whispered to me once,"Come see the creek." I am so glad I
followed her. Now you are an inspiration and a balm when I am troubled. I miss you when I am away.
When next we meet, you will have come back to your calmer self, reflecting the world with a slightly waved view. The tiger lillies will be reaching their roots to you, soaking up your essence, and putting on their orange show. I can hardly wait.
With love,
Michelle
