During one of my many adventures, I was walking a great distance. I wasn’t walking with a specific purpose or direction like one on the way to the store for a carton of milk; I was merely walking. Nor did I have a clear view of my destination. I had an idea of what may lie far off before me, but having never been there before, who could be certain. Usually the imagination of places and times fail in resemblance to the actual.
At some point on this trek, I found myself in a desert. However, I don’t remember entering this desert. I may have noticed the trees shrinking into bushes and the temperature rising, but it seems like I was just walking under the invigorating shade of those grand pines. I mustn’t have been paying attention to the time. My skin is stinging and burned now. The heat has exhausted much of my energy. Is it too late to turn back and re-enter the bliss of the woods? I might have backtracked, but when I turn around there are no woods in sight. How long have I been from them? How long have I been in this desert? Even the bushes are sparse now. I notice that my feet are tired and blistered from the heat. I feel weak. How did I not notice the transition to here?? Where was my mind off to? Sand clings to my sweat covered body. Oh how I miss the woods! Why didn’t I savor their comfort during their midst? Now I must endure the sun in its cloudless sky. It stares down at me, that yellow ball of fire, testing me. I’ll make it across though; this isn’t the first desert I’ve been through. I realize my mouth has become exceedingly parched. I need a sip of water. Actually, now that I think of it, when was the last time that I filled up?! Hastily checking, my almost empty bottle suggest not recently. Looking around, I take half of the last swig that remains and continue on in my direction.
It’s been five, maybe ten, miles now since that last drop; I saved it for as long as I could. How large is this wasteland?! My body is spent; I’m doing all I can to just keep going. My pace is deplorable but I know that if I stop I won’t start again. The sun is determined to finish its task. I’ve climbed up and over several sand ridges now and every time it’s the same vast emptiness on the other side. My last thread of hope is set on this ridge before me. It’s steeper than the prior ones; maybe suggesting something ahead? It’s all I can do to reach the crest; struggling, stumbling, crawling. My knees and palms are bleeding a little. As I position myself to sit atop, I lean against a plant as harsh and formidable as this land. Its long, sharp spikes send a jolt of attention back through my body. I look around. Nothing. Why is there no water in this place?? How long have I been trapped here? I barely even remember what water and shade feel like. I know I was within them once, more than once I’m sure, but now I am scared to even hope for them again. I got myself into this predicament but despite my efforts, it appears I will be unable to get myself out. “I could use a little help here!” The heat waves shimmer back silently at my shouting. The sun is getting lower now and my eyelids are heavy. This harsh spot is as good as any I guess. And then that’s when I see it. Or at least I think I saw something. Is my mind just playing tricks on me? It must be a hallucination; the infamous oasis waving in the cartoon desert. Wait!, there it is again! Down the other side in the ravine, a sparkle of light. Could it be the sun reflecting off something I still not dare think? There it is again! I thought I had been emptied but I am now falling and tumbling down the side of this hill to what is beginning to look like something of my dreams. This reserve of energy is surprising. I don’t feel my aching body or my mouth; my attention is on whatever might be at the bottom. I’m getting closer now and I can hear it! It is! It’s a small stream of water!
My feet stop when I reach the stream’s edge but not the rest. I flop right down into this life haven, body and all. At first it hurts to drink, but the cool water is flowing through easily now. Oh water!, I knew you were still here somewhere! I remembered you from days of old. I have once again found you, or was lead to you. Either way, I’m here now. I roll over a few times in this thread of life and drench every inch of my body. The cooling feeling is exhilarating. With mouth open, I lay face first redirecting the stream into my body. Once I get my fill, I just lie on my back and enjoy the water flowing around me.
I must have drifted off because it’s dark now; stars are above me. I shiver. I’m still in the river. The desert gets cold at night and I’m soaking wet. That’s okay; I’m not about to curse my life saver; I’m not drowning yet. Anyway, the arid wind will dry me soon enough. I strip off and settle into camp for the night. When morning comes, I leisurely get up and again drink my fill from the creek. Finally regaining some strength by noon, I decide to follow the water to its source. The terrain is still harsh and I am still weak, but my supporter winds up the hillside next to me. Just before the top of the this adjacent ridge I find the source. A spring. Amazing. I’ve always found springs amazing, water just coming out of the ground, but this one, here, in the middle of nowhere. It’s like it was put here for me. I was meant to come this way. About a hundred more yards and I’m at the top. There’s not much to see. More waste. I see the direction I came from and the others look about the same. Downhill, the stream seems to continue, winding out of sight. I guess that’s my path. I make camp at the spring and stare at the smiling crescent as I drift off to sleep.
The next day I follow the creek. It’s much larger now and the trees are back! And the sand is gone, mostly. However, even though the landscape has changed, I find it hard to leave this river. Endless trees on either side call to me to reenter their shade. But I can’t. I’m somewhat drawn to see where I’m being led. I walk alongside its meandering demeanor, slowly descending, but visibly beside me. Am I foolish for following this path instead of returning to my own direction? My lead may not have turned out so well lately, but still, can I trust this river to lead me better? That’s when I see it. A long dark-blue lake opens up into the horizon. Hills fall into her from either side. Mist lightly hovers across her. She is beautiful, truly. Where she leads I cannot tell; her vastness is beyond my measure. Within my entrancement, I ponder what to do. Water is no longer a concern in any direction and shade is all abound. But I think my path has already been chosen and shown to me. That spring has led me here. Even though I don’t know where it’ll take me, I know now that I must follow it out through its end. I’m scared and excited about what lies ahead but I know I can’t turn aside. Its beauty is too great to seek another. Good thing I can swim.