A river runs through it

Maybe it’s because I grew up in the Pacific Northwest and in that growing up was treated by my dad’s love of the out-of-doors to the nooks and crannies of the streams and brooks and rivers of the mountains that I love the picture of these words of wisdom:

“Wise words are like deep waters; wisdom flows from the wise like a bubbling brook.”

One of the memories I cherish the most with my father is

Someone recently recommended I read the book “The River Why?”  It’s about a young man who heads to the mountains in search of the stream-bound rainbow trout and in the process catches his dream.

The movie promo for this story describes his life “in a secluded cabin on the banks of a wild river where he does nothing but fish.”

I’m there.

As I sit at my computer thinking these thoughts I’m in a beautiful office on the shores of American Lake.  A 10-inch band of wallpaper bordered in cedar circumscribes the wall around me at eye level.  The scene is set in some remote valley, wispy clouds obscuring but a few of the many mountainous peaks that tower above a log cabin, smoke curling from the rock chimney, nestled among the Evergreens, a boat pulled up on the shore of a river that runs through it.

I’m there.

“A River Runs through It”, directed by Robert Redford, won - not surprisingly to me anyway given my penchant for the prospect of something for the frying pan caught in the pristine and primitive waters of Western Montana - an Academy Award for Best Cinematography.

I’m there.

Described as majestic and magical, “A River Runs through IT” is also the name of a cabin where “the rhythmic flow of vibrant emerald green waters lulls to sleep.”

I’m there. 

I can identify with one of the closing lines from Redford’s film, “I am haunted by waters.”

“The well-spring of wisdom,” one commentator wrote, “is where there is a sound understanding, and a deep, well-informed mind, its wisdom and its counsels an incessant stream, bright and clear.”

I want to be there.