We live on a cul de sac, about halfway around it. Get to the end of the cul de sac, look left, and there's a bridge over a stream.
I love streams like this - the water flowing, just as life flows...
I used to wonder, what is it like for people to walk to the stream, see the water, and feel a breeze...
Today I went on my walk and found myself so close to that bridge and river. And then I was there. Blocking back tears which wanted to come, I looked at this stream. It continues; there are rocks, branches, various things blocking the path of the water. But the water finds a way, just as in life, we may search and find our way.
My husband returned home allowing me to continue to the top of the hill after the bridge.
A breeze on my face, tears blocked, looking up.
It's the little things that count.