Its morning and a deep, Western river calls.  

I remember the dry grass' rush as I moved through.  Tan, dry as bone, showing the wear of the season, its roots growing deep grasping for soil, sustence, water, and stretching towards the sky on a fair Gallatin County afternoon.  Everyting is alive at times like this as you know, behind it all, a heart beats, drumming out the rythym of life.  Each beat, each little vibration is the one of many in a life well sown walking.  The rivers my place.

There are many, these things we call rivers, stretching from horizon to horizon linking the seas.  They are solid in their movement, tides rising, shifting in the sea of change which is growth in the infinite, the effervescent, the living, the known.  Where tides shift uncertainty lies yet the heart beats resonating deep, not reaching for but proving at life and its endless vibrancy.  Where its heart beats, life is born the world comes alive, as conciousness strikes and awareness hints at the scent of change as it wisps across the world and all of humanity.

Ahhh, the scent of change.  It has struck me a time or two; fresh, organic, lively, alive.  For we do not fear death, its maker, its marks, but rather embrace life, reaching for it, grasping for it, screaming out "I am alive" in response to its call.  Where do we find it,  in the drippy drops of melting ice cream.  In the gentle rolling tonque of a furry friend offering comfort.  I the gentle waves of a mothers voice whispering us to sleep.  In the comfort of the first lines of a favorite book that we know we are softly falling in for the day.  Encaptured like a womb in the presence of today we are amazed, mystified...how did it get so good.

In my river, my place, I know it well.  My heart beats steady as I am by its side, not racing, nor loggy, nor lost in expectation.  Rather knowing it, my place,  and finding my way without walking, almost floating through the ether.  Then, I see it, the river, and my belly is set.  My finrst cast unfurls.  I stride towards my day.