Measured Waters

There is something magical that happens when men pile into a car, fill it's tank, remove it's air freshener, and hit the road. With inhibitions on hold they cannot miss adventure. Led by the anticipation of what will be found on the other end of the speed zone they open up their senses and absorb the sights and smells that pass them by. The doors fly open at every bathroom break and the men scatter, only to find each other again at the most intriguing discovery. The bridge used to conceal urination becomes the gateway to the convergence of two creaks. It is nature's playground and it is theirs for the taking. It isn't long before the rocks take flight and one must dodge the descending water. Shoes become optional. One can challenge the force of the rushing water from within or hurl their body from rock to rock above. Soon they find themselves alone. It is a moment to reflect, a moment to snap pictures, a moment to stand back and inhale the surroundings. It is during this moment that one can ponder the reality of the world and one's place among creation. it is during this moment that one is humbled by a leaf and the willingness to open them self up to what it can teach. It is during this moment that one must let the leaf go and watch it swim off slowly alongside others only to lose it downstream.