I’m sitting on the proverbial fence here at the Cathance River. At this precise spot is where the river is divided from its freshwater portion to its tidal portion. At this precise spot is where the river says, “This is where I take a stand,” and downward it plunges, rushing off to find an outlet that will eventually empty into the ocean. The river is on its way.
I’ve sat on other fences before. It’s no fun. Should I go this way or that? Should I do this or that? Should I stay or should I go? Meanwhile, “this way” and “that way” and “this thing” and “that thing” continued on doing what they do, oblivious to my existence. I was the only one who sat there paralyzed. In life, we can only sit on our fences for so long. We can only nurse our injuries for so long. Eventually, we have to take a stand. Eventually we have to take the plunge.
I’m done waiting. I’m going forward. I’ll meet you at the ocean.
|The "head of tide" on the Cathance River.|