The early morning mist clung to the riverbank where the boy and his faithful companion were sitting, the ground beneath them was damp but their spirits were alive with the warmth of simply being. They watched as pearls of dew dripped rhythmically yet silently from the fingers of a willow tree and listened to the ducks calling to their young as they glided mysteriously and shapelessly on the water below them. The muted response of the ducklings hanging in the damp air like echoes from the past. The place seemed timeless, wrapped as it was in the soft blanket of Mother Natures tears; tears of love not anger, tears of life, giving fresh hope, feeding and nourishing all that they touched. To sit there amid creation, to witness and be a part of it all was almost surreal but the boy and his pal knew it was real, they were there centred in that magical moment.
The boy couldn’t help smiling as he sat watching and listening, taking each new moment, each new sound, each new sensation and vision that was given him into the heart of his soul. He laughed as his damp companion sidled closer to him anxious to be off and investigate each new unseen rustling from the undergrowth that sheltered them from reality. The pair were at one with each other and with nature, they shared the exhilaration of life that so many others never feel or see, letting life pass them by without a nod of acknowledgement or appreciation. Embracing life was what bonded them, sharing moments like this in the knowledge that they were connected with everything around them and simply allowing that to be. No questions, no doubts. How could there be, the evidence was there in and about them in that magical moment.