Bed Rock

There's a perfect sittin' rock in my river. Time and rushing water have smoothed it into a perfect chaise lounge. It scoops low in the front and comes to a perfect back-supporting rise that conforms to shoulders and heads. There's even a butt sized dip right where it needs to be. It affords the user opportunity to lie back and dangle feet in the water, or drape a lazy hand in the current, or both. About mid evening it's got just the right warmth left from the sun.

That's where I was yesterday evening, just as the sun was heading beyond the tree line. Oddly, the normally present horseflies and mosquitoes weren't around to pester. I lay there, watching dragon flies flit and hover over the water, watching the fry leap from the river to catch them, watching the trees sway in the breeze, the blue and apricot sky reflected in the river. I felt all the hurt and worry in me being soaked up by the stone, felt my tears disappear downstream, felt a solid peace with the Universe.

Languid is the word that comes to mind... the languid moments of Summer. Yes. This is what I will look back upon when I am old(er) and gray(er). This is what I will close my eyes to picture when someone makes mention of Summer. This is the dream I will remember when the chill of Winter wraps around my bones. This is the lover whose touch will be unforgotten.

I feel sorry for the too busy people in the world. I want to take those I know down to my rock and say, "Shhh. There now. This is the flavor of Summer. Slow... slow..." And I will whisper the word "languid" until I see them exhale their understanding.
maggie and millie and molly and may
by e.e. cummings
maggie and millie and molly and may
went down to the beach (to play one day)

and maggie discovered a shell that sang
so sweetly she couldn't remember her troubles,and

millie befriended a stranded star
who's rays five languid fingers were;

and molly was chased by a horrible thing
which raced sideways while blowing bubbles:and

may came home with a smooth round stone
as small as a world and as large as alone.

For whatever we lose (like a you or a me)
it's always ourselves we find in the sea.

I'd bet that ol' e.e. knew that a river will do just as well as the sea. A river and a good sittin' rock. Stop by and see what I mean.