The New River

Sometimes I find myself drawn to the river.  I go to the river bank while the sky is still dark and watch the course of the water as the sun makes its entrance.   The sun’s early glimmers reflect off the top of the river and leave the water in all directions creating a soft continuum of warm pastel colors that disappear into the trees.

The woods devour the rays of sunlight and regurgitate the light in the form of soft muted tones of dark shadows with irregular shaped patches of warm light.  The patches of light struggle to survive as early morning gradually dies and late morning makes its first appearance.  The river seemingly takes no notice of the changes occurring all around it but it is also changing.

I am amazed by the reflections cast by the sunlight bouncing off the stones on the river bottom.  In the shallows the patterns of the stones seem to mimic a crudely created mosaic.  At first I don’t see recognizable patterns but after a closer look I see distinguishable patterns and images.  The images are of faces, and clouds and mountains.

The river transports parts of trees that were once overhanging branches along the upstream shore.  As they float by I can’t help but wonder where their journey will end.  The water itself is new.  It may have come from an overflowing pond, a creek uniting with the river waters or from clouds releasing their moisture onto the land.

I now understand that tomorrow will bring the birth of a new day never before seen by me, or anyone else.  All my experiences will be new, and everything my senses detect will challenge them to recognize things never before perceived in that way.  I also know that the day I spend at the river will pass, and never come again.  Those days aren’t lost, they are just filed and categorized in my memory.

The people I meet today are new and have never been this way before.  There are differences in their appearances, their speech and their thoughts.  There are also differences in the way I see them.  There is also newness in the way I feel about them.  Sometimes I forget I am new to them as well.

The recollections of past days will always have a place in my memory.  There are some memories I hold onto and daily reinforce with constant thoughts of people I was fond of and now miss very much.  There are others remembrances that linger in my mind even though I try to forget those memories and those days.  I find I don’t have the ability to selectively erase from my memory days that brought sadness.

I see the river with new eyes, I process the information from my senses with a new mind and I refuse to dwell on the old but rather marvel at the newness of everything around me with a new heart.  I sometimes wonder why everyone doesn’t see the new river.

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