When I was young at the river, I saw the endless path before me, and had begun to feel impatient, and tired, and hot. I would then race my sister on the trail, feeling the cold, refreshing, gentle breeze against my face. Seeing people eating on picnic blankets, I felt hungry myself. I remember peeking through the tree branches to see the water below; shining, flowing, splashing. I sat down on the bench most times, as my child self could only walk for so long. I loved the river, but not the flies that would swarm around me. Swatting at the flies, I was always aware of the ones that bit.

When I was young at the river, I remember my parents saying the bridge was ahead, I jumped with excitement, ready to see the water clearly. I felt the uneven terrain below my feet transformed into the iconic, gleaming, red bridge I knew. I ran to the rails and held them, suddenly realizing my hands were covered with sticky and long and disgusting spider webs. I saw the water, but quickly had enough, and wanted to go down and see it better. I went down the dirt path, guiding my family down the way. I had been so many times before. Tripping over tree roots, and feeling branches on my head, I continued downwards. I remember feeling the twigs tug at my shirt and smelling the moist soil at the end of the trail.

When I was young at the river, I remember feeling calm seeing the water at last. I walked closer and watched the geese slowly swim by me. Feeling the cold water on my toes, I remember senseing calm. I remember my sister being scared of the fish, and laughing at her. I felt a rush of excitement as I jumped on the bumpy rocks in the stream, but was careful not to get hurt. I remember throwing stones in the water, trying to make the biggest splash. Always curious, I remember how I tried to touch the water, knowing my parents are by my side.

At the river, I always found something new when I visited. Every time was special, from the budding flowers, to the sunshine, to the falling leaves, and to the cool breeze. I remember being impatient, and whiny, and hungry sometimes as a child, and I wish I had savoured those beautiful moments even more. I will always remember the beauty of the water, whether from the bridge, through the tree branches, or right beside it. It was always there, year after year, ready for my arrival. I wish I could remember every flutter of a goose's wings, or laugh with my family, or splash in the water. Even if I can't remember every moment, I will always look forward to being there again.