Thursday, July 2, 2009


The river was singing me an invitation early this morning. As soon as could be managed, I grabbed Maggie, a latte and showed up. The birds sounded like The Von Trapp Family Singers, the sun was dazzling and the water looked like Kiplings 'great, grey-green, greasy, Limpopo river, all set about with fever trees.' My eyes wanted to be my throat and swallow it.

A young buck crossed from the opposite bank to my side up river. Some time later, out of the corner of my eye, there was a movement up on the bank behind me. It was him, peeking curiously down at Maggie and me. He had about a 9 inch stub with one little nub branching off it. He was so close that I could see the golden tan velvet on his wanna be antlers. Maggie was quivering for the 'ok' from me to give chase. She didn't get it! He ran off just before she caved into her animal impulses. Later on he crossed the river again, showing off his graceful walk. He might be the next king, huh? Teenager Bambi? :)

It was one of those perfect mornings that you don't want to ever end. I couldn't stay out of the water for long. Collected rocks, dug in the sand, dreamed, read, journaled and de-cluttered my brain. Mostly played. Deep play.

Paradisical time isn't available, readable, do-able or plan-able on any clock you can buy or make. It only happens when you show up. That's the thing, showing up.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I'm jealous my love! You make it appear in your writing just like I picture Heaven!

Mr Loverby