Walk With Me
We have been walking at the Water Works in East Freetown for years now, and I have wanted to gather some of the moments we've encountered there along the way.
Neither the time of day nor the season seems to matter as much as the energy you feel when you come upon something completely unexpected.
That is especially true when you head out with enough curiosity to make it almost impossible not to notice something new.
In the course of a year, I could probably count on one hand the number of times the water has been still enough to create a reflection like this.
And then there is the occasional discovery close at hand, like this blossom from the tulip tree near the entrance to the Water Works. We are told the tree itself may predate the entire complex.
On any given day we might wonder where all the swans have gone. Then suddenly we come upon a family — mother, father and babies — close enough to the walking path for a photograph without disturbing the business of caring for their young.
I will always remember the Saturday morning when this remarkable owl flew past us on my left. “What was that?” I closed the distance of nearly a football field before finding where it had stopped to perch. Then came what felt like a deliberate turn of the head to stare right back at me.
There are the brilliant colors of fall, and then there are those moments when everything around us seems to gather itself into a single view — another reminder of why coming here so often never feels like a chore.
Weather isn't much of a deterrent at the Water Works. Quite the contrary. Fog, rain, snow and changing light can make a familiar place suddenly unfamiliar again.
Some mornings the view feels almost dreamlike, as though something might appear from just beyond what you can see.
It’s never really about the conditions. Sun, rain, fog, ice — after enough years they all become familiar.
What remains unexpected is what happens when we keep showing up and continue to look.
Perhaps that is why we keep walking here.
Talk soon...
G