I'm behind my father's house now, just outside of Philadelphia, drinking my coffee and looking down a hill I've admired since I was just a tot.
My grandparents had done well for themselves in the 1960s and had a big house built on a high hill, looking down over a little pond. My grandparents are long gone now, but my parents now call it home.
This is the part of the world where I grew up, but I never really let it be my home. Once I was a young man and felt I had my feet under me, it was off to North Carolina. For reasons I shan't go into here, I needed some distance as many do, and it was only in North Carolina that I started to really think about things like "I wonder where that river goes".
I think that started with noticing the Eno River behind the courthouse in Hillsborough. It started out with a willingness to just get wet and walk upstream, and eventually led to spending $400 on a Mad River St Croix (long since gone from my life).
Driving up through Virginia, DC, Maryland, Delaware, I found myself looking out the window at rivers and marshes I'd never really paid attention to before. "I wonder where that goes." So many beautiful places were just beyond the din of the interstate.
This house that my grandparents built at one time had four generations of my family living under the roof at the same time. It's my only anchor now to this part of the country. The house will not be mine, nor will it be my parents' for much longer. They're set to relocate to Florida, selling the house to a younger family ready to start their own story.
The likelihood that I'll ever come back to explore the waters less traveled here is pretty low. Someone else will have to take their canoe down to the water and look around instead.
For me, it's a place to find all of my missed opportunities of youth, and wonder...
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