The River Does Not Hibernate

Sure, I may have looked out the window a few times in the past few months to find the river covered in a blanket of ice, but the river did not hibernate. Under that sheet of ice, the current still flows, the tides still come in and out. It is because of those currents and tides that anyone walking along the shore will see the proof that the river does not hibernate.

Interesting thought I have. I call it the shoreline, not because I am from NJ where all summer ocean goers enjoy their stay at the shore. No, I prefer Ocean City, Maryland and I go to the beach. But for some reason I have always called the sand (really more rock and clay than sand) the shore. Wonder what other people call it in the Midwest.

Now, there was an article in the local newspaper in which people in a water community were upset because there is a lot of debris and trash along their shores and they want to blame someone and have someone pay to clean up the shore. I found that article on Facebook, and I found it interesting.

The other day I was looking out the window and I saw a head traveling quickly back and forth along the riverside. (another term for shore) I watched carefully wondering how the head was moving so quickly, it could not be on a boat or a skateboard. Yes, my mind goes strange places.

I walked outside to get a closer look and sure enough a knee popped up next to the head and then another. I realized the youngest human was running along the river. It was quite a sight to see. I had to go down to see this up close.

I saw more than just the youngest human.

My shore is filled with a lot of driftwood. I wonder if I should sue the trees for losing their limbs during the many storms we had this last year. I wonder if I should sue the dock owners who are now struggling to make repairs on their docks because their boards are on my shore. Maybe I could sue the seaweed that decided to leave the water where it was rooted in the sand.

I do always find it interesting when I look at the different things that are not natural in front of my hillside. There is always at least one water bottle, I found some gallon sized bottles of unknown beverages. This year there is a birthday balloon that I am having difficulty reaching because, for some strange reason, there are now several trees growing on the beach. Hmmm.

I also found a large medicine bottle from Walgreens with a very strange metal object inside that looked like it might be, well – this is g-rated so I will let you imagine on your own. I wonder if I could sue Walgreens.

There was a plastic lawn chair that would have been a great find had it not been occupied by a rather large fallen tree. Dang, another tree to sue.

I did like the small life saver that I found and will absolutely find a place for it in my garden.

But, by far the greatest find was a piece of driftwood.It was the first thing I noticed when deciding to make the trek down the hill in search of the youngest human. I immediately reached for it an held in my hand as though I had found gold.

“Wow, look at this great walking stick,” I exclaimed.

“Yeah, I found it. It was much larger so I buried part in the sand and broke it off,” said the youngest human.

Poop, I thought, already claimed. I’m sure my expression revealed my great disappointment because it wasn’t long before I was granted permission to be the owner of the now official walking stick.

I perused the shoreline and the changes that had taken place during the winter, all the time holding my prized possession. It really was a comfortable fit in my winter weathered hand.

Before going back up the hill I commented, “this looks like a bird. What bird is it? It’s not a duck,” I pondered. I was looking for the word ‘goose’, but I couldn’t formulate it at the moment. (Oh, yeah – Alzheimer’s fear 101)

The youngest human looked closely and said, “It’s a flamingo.”

Oh great glorious day!

My flamingo walking stick made the trek back up the horrible hill so much easier! The youngest human walked behind me just in case I fell – isn’t that sweet?  We talked about how I should paint it to really make the flamingo stand out. (Note: we even went to get the paint together!)

When we showed it to my human, he said it did not look like a flamingo. He said it looked like an eagle. It has an angry eagle eye. He even told me how I should paint it to look like an eagle.

“If you want it to look like an eagle, paint it yourself. You can have it.” I said. I’m sure my tone was sweet and angelic.

My human, after 2o some years of being my human, is well and truly used to my passive aggessive tendencies. As a result, he declined to comment and left the walking stick in my possession. See, humans can be trained!

I have yet to paint it, but I will let you decide, eagle or flamingo?

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I am a dreamer who loves to explore the world through words. I hope to inspire others to live in peace and be their best selves. I also have an affinity for flamingos, gnomes, and all things magical. They live happily in my gardens.

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