Do you have a thinking place?

The weather was so spectacular this weekend that I stayed outside as much as possible. On Saturday afternoon, we took a family walk at Tanglewood Park.  The boys begged to go on the hayride, so Hubby took them, and the hound and I enjoyed a walk down to the banks of the Yadkin River. What is it about rivers? What is a river, anyway? A body of water? Drainage? The path...which changes over time? Or the water, which much be constantly replenished?  OK...so I'm getting a little deep, here, but I've always loved rivers. I grew up near Pisgah National Forest, and we would go wade in the 50F clear rushing shallow waters of the Davidson. Every day we drove past the lazy, muddy French Broad, which meandered thru a flood plain near our home. I learned to paddle on the Nolichucky and the Cheoa and the Nantahala. When I lived in Louisiana, I would go sit on the levee and watch the Mississippi. Only in Texas did I not have a river to watch....Shoal Creek had to suffice, when it had water. It did help that the streets of downtown Austin are named for the major rivers in Texas, and that we could drive to New Braunfels and spend a day at the tube chute on the Guadalupe.

My uncle, who owned a farm and farmed much of his life while working a day job at a school system, said you have to get yourself a thinking place. It's a physical place you can go to when your mind is troubled or when you need to listen to your innermost thoughts. His farm was his thinking place. When I was young, mine was the waterfall at Glen Cannon. Now it's the banks of the Yadkin. Welcome to my thinking place. Thank you, Uncle RH, for helping me find my thinking place.

Where is your thinking place?