I lay on the earth by the side of the creek. Walker creek, it happens to be called. I was still in my snowsuit, and the ground was still hard, not frozen hard, but spring cold still. There were patches and chunks and mounds of snow, but there was no doubt that the thaw was under way. I could hear it in the creek, Walker creek, my own namesake creek, rushing by. It was so loud! Thunderous! Roaring! The only other thing I could hear was the occasional crow, screeching overhead as he perched on a high branch and looked down at me and the dog, skeptical.
As I listened to the water run, I traced it back in my mind from where it came. It had just been snow lately, and not so very long ago. It had been snow up on the big mountain. The big mountain behind my house, over a few foothills, rising up and filling up with snow all winter long, and letting all of us, me, the whole town, people from all over the world, ride all over its flanks on bits of wood, whooping and hollering with joy!
I thought of Dr. Masaru Emoto and his experiments with water. How frozen water changes its crystalline structure when it is exposed to certain emotions. The emotion of anger and hatred make the crystals all wonky, unbalanced, ugly. The emotions of love, joy, the music of Mozart, Beethoven, make the frozen crystals beautiful. Balanced, symmetrical, elegant and detailed.
I thought of all the frozen water that had been exposed, all winter long to the over exuberant joy of the thousands and thousands of skiers and snowboarders on this big mountain. As the melted mountain snow rushed by me now, I tuned in, and could feel it again. The ‘Woot Woot’ of a million voices, raised in orgasmic exultation to the sky. Each individual feeling of joy, was released as each snowflake warmed, melted, careened and cascaded down the mountain, and then past my head, here, in Walker creek. I felt it! The joy! The happiness! The freedom of floating and flying through endless layers of crystalline water.
What a gift this second reading of joy. What a gift to be able to sit, still, for half the afternoon, and listen to the music of the creek.
I lay there while the sky filtered past grey, into the late afternoon clearing blue that always hits our sky at sunset. I watched the sky turn pale, and pink, and then I stood up and shook myself out. The dog stood up too, and shook his little puppy body, him, in a constant state of joy just from being alive, and being out in the woods and being tuned to the endless aromas of life in the forest.
I wanted to bow down to the creek, for giving me another glimpse of this glorious winter. My favorite season, literally melting itself away into a memory. So I did bow down. I put my face into the creek, and took a drink of the melted joy. And then I shook myself off. The puppy looked at me strangely with his head cocked to the side. But then I stood up to go, and he shot out in front, leading us back down the path, which was even now a little more melted. A little more spring like. Neither of us turned around. We just walked on. Into the gloaming.