Where the Sidewalk Ends

Dear Whoever You Might Be,                                        “There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.

Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.”  

                    ---Shel Silverstein

      Last Monday, I stayed with a dear friend in Front Royal, Virginia. Though teeny-tiny by most "city" standards, Front Royal offered a hidden treasure. A few days prior to my arrival, an epic rain storm flooded the Susquehanna River, which runs about 20 min outside of town. My friend wanted to show me the affects of this rain storm. The result? The picture above. From where I am standing, the road stops and the flooding water begins. Apparently, there is a teeny-tiny bridge near this teeny-tiny town which goes over the river. It sits mere inches above the water line, and when the river rises, the bridge disappears. The road just stops.

      I couldn't even see bits of the bridge; all I saw was the sunset over a rushing river. My friend and I parked our car (the road was blocked so we had to leave the car and limbo under the blockade), and walked the rest of the way down to the river. It was so quiet and so peaceful and I could have stayed there for a very long time. Since it was sunset, all we heard was the water and the crickets. The wind was blowing the leaves, and it was most surreal. I haven't felt so calm, and so peaceful in quite some time.

      I took a few pictures (and obviously some #selfies), but it was one of those moments in life where a camera and a flash do no justice to the picture-perfect view.  I do not consider myself an "outdoorsy" person, but how could anyone not appreciate such a spectacle of nature?

                                                                               Sincerely,

                                                                                       Me