On one of the fine (unusually) warm days last week, Josiah and I headed out on a bike ride, intent on enjoying the weather to the fullest.
We headed off in the opposite direction than we usually went, and soon found the roads to be rather muddy and sticky for bike riding, but the temperature was pleasant, neither too warm nor cold, for such exercise.
Coming over a hill, we faced the opposition of a "road closed" sign, due to flooding that this particular road had been subject to since the spring rains. So we turned down a road just before this obstruction and took a route that I, at least, had never biked on before.
After passing farms and skirting the local lake, we heard the overpowering sound of turbulent water, we soon came upon the drainage of the lake which pours into Farmer Creek which carries the water far and wide and distributes it into smaller streams along the way. The water thundered through a metal tube of large circumference and rushed pellmell under a bridge pushing and dashing over rocks trying to flow as fast as possible into the Creek.
Josiah and I stumbled down the embankment and by dint of much clambering and grasping to beams (I at least had to "clamber and grasp" having forgotten to wear my waterproof boots, Josiah just waded over) made it to the pilings under the bridge. We perched there on the rocks at the far side of the bridge, reposing and consuming a snack brought along for refreshment while listening to the jubilant sound of the rushing torrent. All too soon we had to shout to each other over the commotion that it was time to return homeward,
and so we retraced our steps, or in this case wheel marks, back to our abode rejoicing in a lovely afternoon spent where we love to be most,
in God's great nature!