water

Beaver Creek, not much more than a trickle, has cut a wide valley.

. . .

I happened to be in Poplar Bluff for a few days in early April. For a funeral, which seemed unseasonable, since it was about as springtime as I can ever recall it being. This spring--the spring of 2012--is one I'll remember for the rest of my days. In part because it has been so beautiful. And in part because the funeral was for a man who lived a life as beautiful as the spring.

. . .

It rained all week before the first weekend in May. Not normally a fact worth noting, except that this year, I went to Taum Sauk that Saturday.

. . .

Better than the Grand Canyon? No, of course not. But every bit as good? You bet.

. . .

I can't walk by a smallest creek without stopping. I think I must number among what Melville (or Melville's Ishmael--I'm not sure they're the same) calls "the crowds of water-gazers".

. . .

Hamilton Valley is in Meremec State Park, so of course there are caves and springs. Probably more that I noticed.

. . .

Sometimes the uncomplicated pleasures are best. Sometimes the big philosophical throw-down seems, well, contrived. Misplaced. Misdirected. The effort might be better spent on just looking.

. . .