© Sarah Whiteley
There has always been something about bodies of water for me… lakes, rivers, oceans,… they all seem to pull some deeper part of the self outwards. I could sit and watch water for hours.
When I was a kid growing up in northwestern Wisconsin, I had a special place I’d go to – my “thinking spot.” It was simply a large fallen tree over the creek that ran behind the house. It was secluded and far enough from the house that I knew I could be alone. I’d shimmy my skinny little legs over that tree (rarely was I brave enough to walk it) and take up my position right over the center of the creek, feet dangling over. I’d sit there for hours and just think. Sometimes my brothers would come and find me and we’d run off into the woods and play – building forts and climbing trees – but mostly I had that place to myself, alone with my thoughts, the birds, and the soothing sounds of the creek below my bare feet.
Water has always brought a certain sense of peace to me – whether it’s the lake we vacationed at as children, the creek in our back yard, or the ocean I am lucky enough to live so near to. Funny how the things we find a true affinity with in youth stay with us into adulthood.