I had not been there in years.

The creek at my father’s birthplace.

A few miles from the house that he and my mother now call home… yet really a world away.

Standing on the slippery, wet rocks took me back to elementary years when trips were more frequent and apprehensions of falling in ran a bit higher. Reminded of the thoughts of long ago that only encompassed myself and held no room for the two that we now call our own.

The water ripples and wrinkles time and this home is temporary.

A few decades back would have found my father and his family here playing and bathing in this same creek; full of water to the brim then. Yet now it finds him the grandfather of three and one on the way.

Present. The present is all that we really have and it is ever fleeting. Yet we choose to run ahead to grayer hair and “the day when,” although I dare say that day will not find me all “caught up” and content unless I choose to abide in the this day.

Our trip to Daddy’s land was a gift on the cusp of the new year, as was visiting with a cousin. Both I will treasure these next twelve months and in years to come.

Linking up with Rachel.