The River

Photo courtesy of Google Images

            I walk down to the waters edge, my feet sinking into the soft tan sand.  The moment my toes touch the water, I feel at peace, at home.  The river is cleansing, refreshing, renewing.  I remember coming here with my cousins and sister a long time ago.  I remember driving down the gravel roads in the countryside to get here, remember riding in a red truck down to the river.  I remember going fishing with my dad when I was a little kid.  Now, as a teenager, I breath in the fresh scent of the rolling waters, the cool, clean air, the trees all around.  I’m surrounded by beauty, by sunlight, by memories so clear I can almost reach out and touch them.  This is home.

            I sometimes wish that everyone could feel this way.  I wish that everyone could come bury their problems under the hills of velvety sand, could wash their troubles away in the icy waters.  I wish that everyone could find a place like this, could feel their memories and dreams flow around them.  This place is so simple, yet so majestic, so peaceful, so magic.