As the sound of their voices receded, the laughter of the water filled my ears, and I looked about thoroughly- the kind of looking that is similar to meditation in that nothing is sought, yet everything is scrutinized. I saw a man standing naked in the water, gray hair and beard running down his chest and back. At first I was surprised, then amused, and then I stopped reacting and just watched as he waded about, the sun sparkling off his body. I desire the courage to walk naked through the river. I realized, as my friends returned, that for me to sit alone for half an hour, without worrying about snakes or any other menace, is evidence of the courage I do have, and so I left, pleased and proud and quiet.
Courage comes from dealing with the unknown, the wild.
I always can find mine at the river. There' s no place like home, and nothing more pleasing than the Southland in the springtime. There is a graciousness to the land here, despite our best efforts to thwart it. Down at the river, the air varies. Among the trees on land, it is dense and humid, so heavy it merges indistinguishably with the drone of mosquitoes.