Low-water crossing...

The entry to the gardens at Bayou Bend involves crossing a footbridge suspended over Buffalo Bayou. For one who does this often, there is a story to be told by the bayou and its banks and the color of the water. Right now, the water is running clear enough, and low enough that you can see the bottom and the colors of the sand vs. the color of the vegetation and sky reflected in the deeper water. The banks remain steeper than in previous years because we were blessed with plenty of rain - a plus for the vegetation, but a minus for the creation of a gentle slope to the water's edge.

Why do I care about these little things, and why do I write about them? I guess I'm just hopelessly reflective. Ultimately, I know that everything on this earth has its cycles, and somehow we are all related in that. In the last few weeks, I have lost several people who have been good friends, stalwarts in my "growing up" years, mentors, family,

and just generally, part of the fabric of my life. It's a strange feeling to bombarded with that loss.

So when I look out over the bayou and see all the ripples in the sand under the water, and the hidden pools and eddies, and the exposed sandbars, it makes me think of the simplicity and beauty of our lives when all of the rush and bustle of the hard-core living of it has passed. Learning how to just "be", and then letting go even of that. Another completion of the cycle...