The best part about spring is getting to play in the water. I spent a good part of the afternoon last weekend wandering around the yard splashing through puddles and squishing in the mud. My children wandered around with me. Or they did until one of them got a boot stuck and stood screaming with a white sock held dangling above a lone boot deep in some muck. Another one, my son, broke through ice and found himself standing in water up to his knees. I was left alone out in the wilderness.
I found a small stream trickling beside the driveway. Further along it grew to a bubbling little river. I picked up a stick and dropped it in. Every so often I would have to free my little boat so that it could continue on. It made its way to the ditch where it met a much larger flow. I imagined following it away from the acreage, through a pasture, and eventually down into the valley a couple of miles away. But adulthood (and hunger) prevailed. I abandoned the stick, and the water, and headed back to the house for supper.
I can’t recall for sure but life got in the way that evening. My spring excursion was forgotten until the next day. When I saw my kids playing outside and still relatively dry, my excitement rose. I quickly changed my clothes and called them over to the start of the stream. As we walked to where I had started my boat tour I told them what a neat thing I had done the day before. We stopped so that they could find their own stick. We were all ready.
But the stream was not. There was still water flowing. But it was just a trickle. I lead them to the ditch but it was also a shadow of its former torrential runoff. We tried floating our sticks, having races and challenges but we spent more time freeing them from obstacles than anything else. It was then that I remembered another thing about spring. Moments like these are brief. I recalled past streams that were there one day and gone the next. Special times had to be enjoyed right away – or you had to wait for the next year. It could be that warm winter day with perfect snowman snow, a warm summer night with a camp fire and lots of marshmallows, or a harvest time meal with fresh corn on the cob. The next time a moment like this comes, I’ll share it right away.
