It was dusk and all the foliage was still bowed by the heavy rains. I made my way to the greenway where I could hear the soft roar of the rushing waters. The paved path is adjacent the water but in many sections a “riparian buffer” screens the river. Still I took in the harmony of sounds. I’ve always loved the scents that arise after a good rain too, and these were intermingled with a touch of woodsmoke from some neighborhood wood stoves (perhaps fire pits), the cleansed and fragrant greenery, and the river itself. As the daylight faded and the streetlights began to twinkle, my sense of hearing and smell seemed to heighten. All the more accessible and prominent when on foot.
Riding a bike certainly lets one take in more particulars than car travel. Walking further enables me to more fully participate in the life around me, I find it both invigorating and restorative. It was refreshing to move my limbs and enjoy the descent of the night as I strolled along. Yet even walking is a passing through, a momentary participation in a continuum of sensations.
I came to a bridge and lingered for a good bit, enjoying the murmur of the high waters. There were hints of dim light on the surface, the city’s glow on the cloudy skies echoing atop the water. I was near my usual departure point from the greenway but rather than wander home, I felt a desire to pause. I found a perch on the bank across from the River House apt. building and contentedly crouched for several minutes. Soon I was reclining on the stretch of concrete shouldering the bank.
The sensations that had been keeping me company on my walk warmly enveloped me as I held fast in the now dark. When I am still, I feel the world open its arms and embrace me.
Across the river, liquid threads of silver, copper and umber wove a sinewy braid that continuously poured past. Closer to the bank, I could make out leaves rapidly being ushered by, along with small sticks and occasional debris, set journeying by the rains. The river seemed a living being, undulating as the forceful currents shifted in a not-quite-discernible rhythmic sequence. Occasionally the scene was punctuated when the river gently yet powerfully transferred a large limb across my view. Other times a lone leaf would emerge, spin in momentary limbo against a protruding rock, then as quickly vanish.
Feeling beyond sight, I closed my eyes, took in deep breaths for several moments and lay motionless with no humans disrupting the otherwise hushed environment. As if in acknowledgement, I could clearly hear a soft pulsing ripple, and sense a rising and falling, the breath of an ageless flow. I departed feeling accepted, welcomed, and honored to be invited. Renewed, and briefly, reconnected with our Source.