We took a fieldtrip to the gristmill near the Wayside Inn with the grandkids. Plenty of room to run around. Even the sun was out. Biggest surprise was the crystal clear pond where we always go to feed the ducks with the stale bread that I keep in the freezer for just such occasions. For the past four years, the pond has fooled us with its covering of green algae that looks like a beautifully mowed lawn. But yesterday the pond was pristine, with a swan preening in the distance and a couple of mallards and one Canadian goose showing a little curiosity but not enough to grab our snack.
I could have sat by this pond for hours, just as I can meander along the beach for long periods of time. Being on the water makes me feel alive and free, whereas walking around the block in the neighborhood just isn’t the same. There’s power in water, even in a still little pond. Of course the ocean, even on a calm day, is overpowering. Maybe that’s what I’m searching for.
I could have sat by this pond for hours, just as I can meander along the beach for long periods of time. Being on the water makes me feel alive and free, whereas walking around the block in the neighborhood just isn’t the same. There’s power in water, even in a still little pond. Of course the ocean, even on a calm day, is overpowering. Maybe that’s what I’m searching for.