Last fall there was a lightening storm and a bolt knocked out the electrical pump that recirculates the water in the pond in front of our house. Today it was working and I sat on a swing, under some shade trees and let myself feel the rhythm of the water flowing over the rocks. It was hypnotic. Unlike the rhythms of a river felt on fishing waders while concentrating on where to make the next cast this was more brook-like. Gurgling gently and sending a quiet, but reassuring message to the soul. It’s okay. Everything’s gonna be okay.
A call to my cell phone broke my trans. I shouldn’t have picked up. It was a stressful call and it wasn’t two sentences in to the conversation that I forgot what the pond was telling me.
Only now, as I write this am I fully calmed down. I’ve opened the windows wide so I can hear the water entering the pond.
Oh yeah, and I turned off my phone.
One Comment
Of all the marvelous things about the house, the stream is the thing I truly love. I didn’t know there was a pump at work. And so I probably don’t want to remember this post. I’d have such a thing in a heartbeat if I thought I could manage it and take care of it. Like a different kind of horse. Sorry about the phone call. I hope it was much ado bout nothing.