Tonight was the magic of impulse and flow and I wondered on my way to meet a friend downtown, when did all this start? I think it's been a gradual process. Ankle, then waist deep in water I'd watch the flow delighted, *every* now and then wading in to glide a few feet. I'd trowel back to the shore and marvel at the ride. But somewhere along the way, I forgot to get out. Trees were drifting overhead and birds were singing and there was this certain green to the water that just captivated my heart and I stayed in, kept moving, gave up trying to hold onto old roots in the banks. Chin up, toes out, floating on my back...
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