This Riverside Moment

It had been already halfway in the afternoon before we could leave for a simple walkaround. We would not fail to enjoy it. Under a warming sun and a fresh breeze springtime was doing its best. Through the nearby Friedensthal valley we followed the cascading brook down to the riverside. The Weser was still swollen by the frequent rainfall. A pair of kajaks and a single wild duck were floating swiftly down the stream.


As a little boy camping alongside the Ardenner river Semois, we had to paddle upstream each morning. To fill the bucket with fresh fountain water. Coming from the local brook. Called “Le Petit Ruisseau”, I told her. Yes, she knew, she said.

I will never forget the easy speed floating back to the tent. And the smell of fresh filter coffee. A slice of dark crusty farmers bread. Buttered. Real butter smuggled in from France. During one of our thrilling mountain-forest walks over the border and back. Great experiences, learning French from my Belgian host family.

We sit on a riverside bench for a while. The kajaks and the duck are far out of sight now. We love to take our time to see around, visit the black sheep. The young one who wants Willemien to feed him with fresh grass, out of his reach. A repeating scene.Time is moving slowly. Here, the riverbank is sprinkled with yellow flowers. Past and present, a lifetime of unique fulfilments joining in this moment.