In my post “The Consequence of Denying ‘What If,'” I introduced Rachel, a friend who had a cancerous tumor removed from her brainstem. Two weeks ago I took a trip to visit her in the rehab facility she will call home for an indefinite time. I avoided the interstate on purpose.
A skeleton of a mill.
I watched the water fall and cast ripples, carry sticks and leaves under the bridge, to the other side, and beyond. As a mother of young children, I am often not allowed to admire natural wonders. The blink of an eye can mean a missed mill. It can also mean a missed child.
So when these moments away from family come, and I am allotted hours to lose myself in the partly-tamed wilds, that is precisely what I will do. As a mother, it allows me a moment to breathe and enjoy the quiet. As a writer, I am reacquainted with the quintessential rural setting. Lose yourself in the natural world around you, and discover a wealth of sensual touches to make your created worlds real.