I followed my family out to Cole Mill Trail on the Eno River today. We've all been sick and we needed fresh air, sunshine, and a good long walk. We saw geese. We saw ice on the river. We bouldered. We lounged. Ry and I sat on a curved cedar trunk high above the trail and watched folks go by. The men were up river and we could see their red shirts in the distance. Its really nice to sit in a tree. I can't think of the last time that happened. We all ended up together on a big boulder in the middle of the river snacking on carrots, prunes, almonds, and chocolate.

Eventually the children and their Dad were drawn away, needing to keep moving. I was drawn in. There was a small clear pool of water trapped in the rock. I sat staring into that for a long time. I could see critters swimming and leaves rotting and trails through the silty muck. One leaf had air bubbles sitting on it like pearls. Just tiny perfect pearls sitting in a tiny perfect little world. A world that had no care for mine what so ever. I haven't felt so calm in a long time.

Kenneth Grahame describes river mud has having the smell of plum cake. Today with our bag of prunes we tested the analogy. IT REALLY DOES. River mud truly smells like plum cake. My grandmother made plum cake and tomorrow, so shall I. I can't think of a better school lesson than that, tying together our personal history, classic literature, river ecology, and kitchen chemistry in one tasty lesson taken orally.

I didn't bring the camera today. I wanted to participate rather than record. Naturally, it was photographically SPECTACULAR. Bony white sycamores showing themselves out by the river, soft compelling green mosses found tucked into protected nooks. Not to mention the shifting light, deep blue sky, sweet ruddy children, rocky trails, I could go on and on. It was a fabulously beautiful and relaxing Sunday.