River-Sitting

When I was younger, my children in school, done with half-day preschool teaching, I would come here and sit. Sometimes I would take out my Pentax K-1000 and take pictures. Once I saw two women in a canoe and shot a series of them that I still have in an envelope somewhere.

Other times I would think of my Greek grandfather, how he would sit and just look at water or woods, smoking. I always thought of him in nature because he was so at home in wilder places.

Today I left work after two afternoon conferences. While driving home, planning to work on arrival, I had a sudden, jarring memory of how I used to allow myself the time to river-sit between work and other things. Resolutely, I drove past my exit and parked by the water instead. Miraculous! A break between work and work! The river still flows even though I haven't been watching it do so!

I think I should take more breaks like this. I don't want to miss the river all together before I die.
An Iranian father said to me, while waiting for his wife to show up, that he thought if a person lived a good life he needn't live too long. "Ninety? Why?", he asked. I think he is right. But you have to live a good life. And a good life must include river-sitting, thinking and remembering.


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