The beginning of 2014 has been . . . let’s call it challenging, my mother’s death the biggest loss to cope with. Life is complex. And heartbreaking at times. But we are resilient critters, and rebound fairly quickly. What choice do we really have? I’m working on the rebound thing, now that I’m home after a busy spring: author visits in Missouri and Western New York. Time helps. Time to think. Time to write. Time to breathe as I go for long trail runs in nearby MacDonald Forest.
Sure, there was the power that astounded: the roar, the mist, the vibration under foot. And the sheer volume of water — six MILLION cubic feet every minute. Hard to conceive. But it was knowing that chunks of Lake Erie ice, hidden in the foam of the rapids — I saw them above the falls, below the falls, but after almost two hours of watching I saw absolutely none go over — that moved me the most. I felt . . . liberated by knowing they were launching unseen over the brink.
Maybe I’m stretching it, looking for metaphor where there is just Spring and gravity doing its thing on a river. Still, it resonates, so I’m going to cling to it, carry it with me as I live, and write, and run through the woods. 2014. Gimme what you got. I’m ready.