The Other Side of the River
I arise early, on this Sunday morning, with the first feeble rays of sunlight seeping into me, and rousing me from sleep. A heavy fog blankets my yard and neighborhood, and I excitedly make my way down to the river in silence... It is breathtakingly beautiful in the park. Herds of deer grazing, breakfast in deep oblivion, illuminated by pristine shafts of early morning light, piercing through the fog and the trees, which punctuate the skies, like exclamation points... I step onto the boat launch, inches from the water, and am silent witness to squirming tadpoles. I yearn to paddle on this exquisite morning, but I must make my way to the other side of the river to teach a very early yoga class... The river before me disappears into the gray mist - blending into the sky and the shoreline of the neighboring state I will momentarily be crossing. I cannot ascertain where one begins and the other ends. I watch a pair of fishermen silently glide away from the shore, swallowed by the thick and...