A Fresh Outlook

There is a lovely path that follows our meandering Fall River through the town of Hot Springs. During all seasons the river cascades from its source at the spring at the north end of Hot Springs, past the historic sandstone buildings, through the newer section of town, apartments, homes and onward through the country side until it hooks up to the Cheyenne River, which eventually flows into the Missouri River, then on to the grand Mississippi and, of course, at the end of its voyage, streams into the Gulf of Mexico.

I walk this path often. Today I made my trip early to avoid the excessive heat. As the seasons continue, my walk time will change to a later one. During the winter months I will venture out during the warmest time of the day. The seasons change, but the river is constant, soothing, peaceful, invigorating and reassuring.

The grasses and trees and flowers lining the walk emerge in the spring, blossom, flower, droop and die, but the river flows on and on, ignoring the changes on its banks. The turtles and ducks remain through all seasons as the water retains its unchanging warm temperature from its bubbling wellsprings from deep inside the earth at the north end of our scenic community.

It is said that the Indians fought a battle over control of the healing waters. The peak above the springs is known today as Battle Mountain. The river seemed well worth fighting over. It feels eternal. At least it is still here, coursing through our town, a companion to the walkers, joggers, tourists, veterans, skateboarders and skipping children. In this heat it is not uncommon to see children splashing in the water. Families picnic on the park benches. Neighbors stop and talk. Tourists ask, "Where are the bugs"?

One bench has become my half-way resting place. It is beside an especially gurgling, lively spot in the river. I sit and reflect and, at times, visit with someone who enjoys the same bench. It can be a meditative time, or a social interlude. Either way, it fills my soul.

I am grateful to have this enchanting pathway through the heart of our historic town. It was one of the most fortunate exchanges we made when my husband and I lost our home in the country. When I miss our life I wrote about in "A (not so) Simple Life", I stop what I am doing and hit the alley to the river walk. I often see deer, ducks and birds, and, I now enjoy the water, the walkers and a diverse view of our buildings, looking upward from the river below. It brings a different perspective and that is always a good thing for me. Too often I need to get out of my rut of a comfort zone or self-pity. The walk along our river always does the trick.