
I thought years of walking its banks, riding the adjacent Greenway, and enjoying some kayaking on it had given me a pretty solid sense of one of my muses, our Roanoke River. But lately I gained some new perspectives on her ever flowing beauty, by tubing along a stretch near my home the last three days in a row. Hard to convey with words, but the sensory experience is very different when slowly drifting at water level within a flowing river, especially when one relinquishes control and lets the current choose your course.
With nary a paddle or splash, the birds pretty much are willing to hold their place, so I was allowed to befriend kingfishers, great blue herons (young and old), black crowned night herons, a green heron, and an unknown raptor. I smiled at a muskrat, and gave a nod to many river perch underfoot. Depending on who was in session, the raucous crows cawed or Cicadas happily chirped a chorus that echoed of the water and around the bends. On my back on the water, cloud-watching steals the mind’s tension and let’s me feel my breath. Floating slowly beneath trees allows time for them to gently unfold their previously unnoticed structural majesty. Laying backward spread-eagle and dipping one’s head in the water upside down not only cools one’s brain, it offers a wonderful kaleidoscopic rolling vision of reflections, water ripples, and passage through a grand gauntlet of arching limbs along the banks. The skies shine with a new clarity, the sunsets glow, and the deep shadowy trees along the banks at dusk evoke wonderful mysteries.
After a day working in the hellish heat, dipping my hot butt in the refreshing river water has been heavenly. A million thanks to Dustin Eshelman and Anna Robertson for the prompts that have now gifted me with a new outdoor delight and passion. A simple float is beyond restorative, and the solace, peace, and renewal gained in my being are immeasurable.
With nary a paddle or splash, the birds pretty much are willing to hold their place, so I was allowed to befriend kingfishers, great blue herons (young and old), black crowned night herons, a green heron, and an unknown raptor. I smiled at a muskrat, and gave a nod to many river perch underfoot. Depending on who was in session, the raucous crows cawed or Cicadas happily chirped a chorus that echoed of the water and around the bends. On my back on the water, cloud-watching steals the mind’s tension and let’s me feel my breath. Floating slowly beneath trees allows time for them to gently unfold their previously unnoticed structural majesty. Laying backward spread-eagle and dipping one’s head in the water upside down not only cools one’s brain, it offers a wonderful kaleidoscopic rolling vision of reflections, water ripples, and passage through a grand gauntlet of arching limbs along the banks. The skies shine with a new clarity, the sunsets glow, and the deep shadowy trees along the banks at dusk evoke wonderful mysteries.
After a day working in the hellish heat, dipping my hot butt in the refreshing river water has been heavenly. A million thanks to Dustin Eshelman and Anna Robertson for the prompts that have now gifted me with a new outdoor delight and passion. A simple float is beyond restorative, and the solace, peace, and renewal gained in my being are immeasurable.