Emptiness Is Like This

In my twenties, I river-walked the stream in this picture, Bubbling Spring Branch. We'd rock-hop when we could, wade or swim when we couldn't, and play in the water whenever we found a place to slide or a deep hole to explore.

Within 50 feet of where I took this picture there's a spring. Over the years somebody has made sure there's always a pipe embedded in a way that water flows out high enough to get a bottle or a jug under. I've been drinking from this spring a long time.

Last year I finally met a fellow who tends it--mucks out the weeds, cleans the pipe, resets it so the flow is good.

Emptiness is like this.