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Word from Grace Street: So, What’s the Takeaway?
Posted by Wallace+
"So, what's the take away?"
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We had walked up the brook before, but probably only a matter of thirty or forty yards. This time we went, say, five or six times that far, planting our feet sometimes on the bank, sometimes on a straddling tree, but most often in the clear, jubilant water itself, which reaches two or, maybe, three feet where it pools.
Even with homes and a road just out of sight, there is a surprising and pleasing sense of remove, with a bluff sweeping up above. For stretches, small ferns blanket the ground.
Nelson would hold my hand at times, and occasionally I would lift him over a large tangle of woody debris, up onto the next rock, and we would continue on.
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"So, what's the take away?"
You may have been asked the question. I have. And you may have asked the question. I have not.
It's not a question I'm inclined to ask because, to my ear, it sounds reductionistic.
But, then again, I'm probably taking the question too literally.
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We left the stream with a big, handsomely-rounded stone, which we'll put in our yard once home, as well as a busted-up old tennis racquet, which we used to sweep aside arcing spider webs when necessary.
But, of course, that's not the half of it.
Tags: word from grace street
