It’s necessary to write about this past weekend as it turned into an unexpected adventure. The plan was to spend five days in North Fork, but when arrangements fell through at the last minute with a car already rented, we decided to leave town anyway.
Driving north, we settled in Lackawaxen, Pennsylvania on the Upper Delaware River and spent afternoons drifting down the river, evenings cooking in, drinking wine and playing cards.
Everything was so beautiful that I couldn’t help but repeat the feeling aloud.
And a few things I won’t forget: The clarity and stillness of the water, having the river to ourselves on a perfect sunny Friday afternoon, searching for bald eagles and spotting hawks instead; the sound of rushing water and gravel crunching under sandals; the feeling of slowly submersing oneself in the river, the chill and acceptance, the baptismal, cleansing favor it provided; combing fingers, dipping elbows, dripping legs through the waters, shin deep; seeing fish swim below; the comfort of gazing up to a valley circle of ascending trees, grabbing the river along every curve, hovering and holding us somehow, and with such silence.
I caught a frog, he built a fire, we counted deer staring back at us. I forgot all about North Fork and its $700 a night homes—we are Poconos people.