• Melina Meador

River

Photo by Kris Lucas from Pexels

There is a certain smell that can only be a river.


Freshwater, pungent, earth-laced, mossy, cool, wet – all these can be tasted as I walk nearer the Yakima. At the point where it meets the Irene Rheinhart park in Ellensburg, it is fast moving, powerful, still fed plentifully by the snow pack that melts its way down the Cascade range. Later in the summer it will be reduced to a stream, leaving rocks and roots exposed.


I notice a fly fisherman casting, long line glinting in the sun.


On this hot, breezy day - my son’s second birthday – I have snuck away to sit on my blue outdoor lounge chair, feet up, twenty three week pregnant belly large, resting under the shade of willows and aspens, to think, read, write. What luxury.


My children are in good hands.


This is my weekly afternoon to not be anything other than an observant woman at awe in the world.


I so depend on this ease. I need to step away from normal responsibilities and the endless multitasking. Oh multitasking, I need you but I hate you. It is such joy to do one thing, just one thing. I do have these moments in my normal day but they are fleeting.


Pulling back from the crush of much to do, taking a leisurely afternoon to reflect.


It is a gift I wish I could give everyone I know. Here, busy mother, take a few hours off consistently to do nothing but look at the water. Hi there, powerful attorney, enjoy some time to let your brain run its course. Man with the weight of the world on your shoulders, go ride a dirt bike in the hills.


These days it is a luxury to be human and not just an endless producer and consumer.

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