November 6, 2012 § 30 Comments
Hey! So, it turns out there’s an election or something going on in the States today. Who knew, eh?! (Joke.) Some part of me feels like I should talk about it, as it’s a weighty issue, hot discussion, trending topic, etc, etc, etc. I mean, I sure know what I believe. But, I can’t really try to force my beliefs on anyone else. Actually, that’s false, I totally could try to force my beliefs on you!
But, not to worry, I won’t!
Instead I’m going to preoccupy myself thinking and talking about a creek.
There’s a little creek within spitting distance of the house where I grew up. I think I may have actually mentioned it before, though I can’t keep track of these things.
It’s a wonderful creek.
There’s nothing jaw-dropping or awe inspiring about it. It doesn’t have a magnificent or majestic sort of beauty about it. But it does have the most miraculously quiet, serene beauty to it. The angles of the rockbeds, the arc of the branches, the ripples of the water, to me they are lyrical in an other-wordly and yet entirely this-worldly sort of way. It’s one of my favorite places on this earth, and I think one of the most beautiful as well.
I grew up going for walks there all the time. My mother would take us walking there when we were little for teddy bear picnics and to look for minnows. I went walking with friends there, making believe we were explorers in a lost forest. The creek was on the way to and from our high school, so we would hike up and down it in a hurry to get to classes and sports practice. I walked there with my boyfriends, feeling terribly romantic. I walked there whenever I was having boy troubles, alone with my thoughts and terrible indecisiveness. I, of course, took Joel there on his earliest visits to Duluth, to show him what a special place it is. « Read the rest of this entry »