Has the New Year started with a rush for any of you?
Time off work is always sweet but difficult. So wonderful to take yourself out of the tumble. And yet, as you laze on the moral equivalent of lawns and meadows, a torrent of work rushes on. Fast.
So the end of vacation arrives. You rouse yourself, still a little sleepy, and put a toe slowly into the waters. Only to look around a few days later, blinking, to find yourself surrounded by canyon walls and far from home. Or pushing yourself bodily through a reedy marsh, if you jumped first into mountain foam and splash. The context switch from granite to mud takes everything you’ve got.
All of which metaphorical reaching is simply to say, “Well, River of 2013, did your mother teach you no manners? You are supposed shake hands, look your guest in the eye, and say, ‘How do you do?’ Only then can you demand their full attention.”
I suppose river deities are notoriously ill-behaved.
No hard feelings. Nice to meet you, 2013. Yes, since you ask, I wouldn’t mind a glass of water. I hope you all are finding your New Year’s feet, or that, more likely, you managed never to have them swept out from under. A wonderful weekend to all.
Image via carfull…Wyoming’s photostream on Flickr. Let’s take back the territory ceded to Instagram. Go Marissa:).