I walked to the edge of the island and entered the water. It was bathed in light and I could almost see the current as it flowed briskly around the submerged bank of sand and over the rocky ground beneath the river.
I took my heart down to the river’s edge, where I intended to leave it by the shore.
I didn’t think I needed it anymore.
And yet I didn’t entirely let it go. My heart, like the Grinch‘s, was about three sizes too small, or perhaps it was three sizes too big. Either way it felt like it was going to explode in pain.
Down by the river, I resolved to keep trying to understand. Keep trying to love. And – maybe – to learn, though I didn’t want to learn anything from this particular life lesson.
I dipped my toes in the water. The heat of the season made the water feel bath-like. Its temperance defied the pace of my heart, which beat rapidly despite the easy going nature of this river that flows quietly along the edges of this enormous and primitive canyon in Utah. The water evaporated almost instantly on my skin, disappearing before my eyes like a magic trick.
My sister disappeared, too, only I didn’t get a chance to witness her leave. I never said good bye.
At the river’s edge so long ago, I resolved to continue our conversation.
“The cure for anything is salt water….sweat, tears or the sea.” ~ Isak Dinesen, pseudonym of Baroness Karen von Blixen-Finecke
Today’s post was inspired by Write on Edge. I cheated a little because there is no salt in the river. Still, all rivers must flow into the sea, and get a little salty along the way.