The photo is taken from the bridge I look at when I am sitting at my desk.
Beaumont the Sheepadoodle and I cross it every morning when we take our first walk of the day. I am (usually) still in my PJs. My long black winter coat covers me well. There are usually not many people out at this ‘just before the dawn’ walk.
This morning, we set out about half an hour later than normal. I’m grateful we did as the sun greeted us as we turned back towards home.
We stoped in the middle of the bridge. Beau to sniff out all the scents. Me to breathe into the beauty around me and to listen to the river running fast and loud beneath the bridge.
The river runs noisy. An ice island is forming between the two middle buttresses of the bridge, pushing the water out into two separate channels on either side. The river flows in from the west, meets the tip of the ice island, separates and crowds itself into the narrow channels that run along either shore under the bridge.
I stop and listen. The rushing waters burble, leaping over each other in a wild cacophony of sound. Their glorious song is full of possibilities. As if the waters know, they cannot flow back to their beginnings and must keep moving ever-onwards towards the distant sea that waits with eager anticipation to embrace them.
The river carries no regret.
May we all travel like the river.
May we all carry no regrets.
What Will You Do? ©2021 Louise Gallagher What will you do with the limitless possibilities of this new year that reaches far beyond the past you know so well into the distant horizon you have not yet travelled? Will you turn your back on its promises dragging past hurts and pains and disappointments as you stumble and fall beneath the burden of all you carry? Will you step forward, lightly and confidently, into the unknown promises yearning to unfurl into the spaciousness created when you let go of the things that do not serve you well on this journey? What will you do?