At the banks of the river, they climb and laugh and play and make noise. I find myself staring into the current, mesmerized by the flow. Into, over, around and down. Unmercifully, to the sea.
I float and it holds me, suspended on time. The water of my ancestors, evaporated into dust and rained down to us, filling pools and spilling down mountains. The very people that worked this river and looked into it's depths to see those before them.
The sounds of my children playing returns my attention and I warn them to be careful, the current is strong right here. They recognize it as a force to be respected and adjust their course. The present is where they live and I am happy to be here, in it, with them. Maybe one day they will look and see the reflections of the past and stare at them like I do. Now we walk the banks and swim in the pools and the kids look downstream and ask me what's around the bend. I haven't been down there before I tell them, but it looks beautiful. Let's go.
