A found memory
It's 2:00am, I should be sleeping, but I'm in a space that requires reflection. Earlier today I stumbled on this video, which when played on endless repeat really puts me back in the day I took it. My brother, my wife and I were exploring the Whirlpool River that flows through Dad's land. It's a chunk of unfarmable - and therefore unspoiled - "wilderness". I really miss the easy access I enjoyed to such places. Everything about this video makes me homesick. The carefree summery goodness, the quiettude, the birds, the moving water, the saturated green of the moss that prevails against (yet goes with) the current. The permanence of the place and the life that fits easily into it. I can feel the current tugging at my feet and pants cuffs. The cold squishiness of sumbmerged runners and socks. The shifting pebbles under my feet. The ungainly movements I'm making because of the current and the shifting pebbles. The scraping of the canoe I'm dragging over the rocks. The clunking of paddles against the gunnels. The laughing. The unselfconscious happiness. A perfect moment.
I really need a canoe or kayak for the spring.
I really need a canoe or kayak for the spring.
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