Scott Whitby, 2023
I walked along that river’s edge in the noon day sun. But, there was shade and it was safe. The path was smooth and firm and easy, like it was paved. The water whispered over white stones like a veil in a breeze or a blanket being shaken slowly.
I could have stayed on that side but the other side called and was convincing. I had to cross that river. So, I put my foot in the water. It seemed okay but it chuckled as it passed over the now gray rocks as if it knew something I did not. Clouds gathered but I could still see the bottom. I could walk across to the other side.
I went further and deeper and the water pushed against my legs. Not like a veil in a breeze but with ungiving force and power. I could no longer see the bottom and it was hard to stand. If I fell I would be the shaken blanket. The once white then gray stones were darker now but they’d have to carry me. I could not just walk across.
I stepped onto a big stone. It was strong and I felt like a child on strong shoulders. There were more stones between me and the other side and they offered to carry me safely across, I thought. The other side was closer now but still far. I saw the next stone and felt confident.
That next stone greeted me but was wet and slick. It threw me into the cold, heavy water. I went under and tumbled. I awakened washed against another slick stone. It was hard to breathe and to hold on. The bottom was gone and it was storming. I only had mercy.
I crawled and reached but the stones turned away. I could not see well and I was so cold. I could not get back to from where I came and it was hard to know where I was going. I was mad the other side wanted me and that I had wanted to be there. I was scared. The water didn’t care and the stones could not be trusted.
It was too far to turn back. I reached for the next stone, and the next, until one finally offered a hand. Soon, my feet could feel the bottom. I pushed through the current to the shallower water. I could see the bottom again. The water was calmer here. Then I felt the familiar comfort of a path that felt paved.
There was nothing wrong with the side from which I came, not really. There is nothing necessarily better about this side. It was about that river the whole time…that chuckling river and its stones. They needed to know and now they do. That river needed to be crossed.
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