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I sat on a bench on my river bank remembering a childhood dream that one day I might live in a house on the Delaware River.
I never forgot that moment—that dream, that place—where I rowed my boat upstream beyond the riffs, then drifting down as small waves tapped the sides of the wooden boat. I looked into the distance, admiring the velvet green forested bank and imagined how grand it would be to someday look out from my own home at that beautiful body of water.
Fifty years later, I am in front of my house admiring the scene where the river casually sashays to the right and forms an exquisite bend.
I contemplate the length of time it took to get here. Images, episodes and chapters of life appear; the adventures and escapades, mistakes, joys and successes all hold answers, understanding and faith. They were first. All of them were not my ambition, but they are my life.
My dream stayed alive, always close to me, until finally, I am greeting her majesty and her mountains everyday—owls, ducks, and even a swan—in my first winter.
The energy of the river is a source of immense support and love. It can strengthen us after a dark day, and it can soften an afternoon. Even a river frozen over can breathe miracles.
This is the way it’s supposed to be. And I am grateful.
Lynn Guiser has lived in Damascus Township since 2010. Since the late 1950s, she has enjoyed the Delaware River: kayaking, tubing and hanging by a campfire beside the river with friends and family. She currently coordinates WIC for Sullivan County Public Health, a nutrition program for women and children.