The rain tickled as it fell softly at first. It quickly became a downpour as we mucked across the soft ground. It felt so good to feel the wet on my skin sneaking through my shirt. The pat h was leading us to the river. It had been so long. We had been so sad and lost. One forgot how strong the pull of the water is when one was away so long.
Our mood changed. We became lighter. The harder deluge only made us laugh more. Kristen started puddle jumping and I laughed out loud and took fun photos. We could see the creek now. We were so close.
Soaking we continued to splish and splosh as we slogged our way ever closer to the river. To our Peace. It was hard not to run. We never said it aloud but I know she felt the pull as much as I did.
As we rounded the bend, frog songs greeted us. There is was, running quickly. Shallow and green laughing just like us over the rocks it went. I couldn’t stand it any longer.
Down to the river we went in the pouring rain. We stood in the middle for a while. I don’t know how long we stood there smiling. Soaking up the life of the rushing water. Soaking up the Peace.
We forded and explored the riverbank. Dripping and wet and green. We turned to look back at the Peace. For a moment it was silent. For a second or two I know it happened. We went wild.
Looking through the forest by the river the temptation was strong to keep walking into the wet green woods. We could find things. We would see things. Hear things. Know things.
The moment passed. We turned to retrace our steps back to the water’s edge. It was time to go back. Once we crossed that green tumbling water, we would be us again. Renewed, refreshed, but still the ache would come.
Bittersweet rain fell on our shoulders as we forced words. We dallied here and there looking back on our muddy footsteps on the trail. The melancholy call of the woods continued to follow us as we slowly made our way back to the shelter.
It was hard to say where the tears stopped and the rain started.