It’s strange how quickly you can acclimate to the unknown. I haven’t been here a full week and yet, it already feels like I’ve been living by this river for months. When I arrived here last weekend, I was introduced to the loping terrain and met the breeze and the sun of this country with timid cheer. But the driving force through my time here so far has been the Gasconade. I look out my window and see it rushing, constant and textured and I am at ease in its endlessness. It wakes me up in the morning and it pushes me right through to the evening.

Yesterday, Mark took me down and we sat in plastic lawn chairs, right in the current. I dangled first my feet in, and then gave way to the river’s insistence, sitting on the river bed. I felt the force of the water around me and traced its power by the wake left by my hand’s disturbance on its surface. We talked about meditation and I learned a new lesson in balance.



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