Of all the places I have lived, I like the places with easy access to water. I like water.
Water has a music that calms the soul. In cold weather it is the sound of tiny bells tinkling down a path. In the summer it is barely audible over the call of birds or the wind communing with the trees. In the Spring, when the rains come, it is a loud shout, telling the world to move. In the fall, drained of its energy, it becomes a slow wanderer, looking for a place to rest its head.
A small flow of water as the tide heads out
I could sit for hours by a creek, listening to its song. When listening was not enough, or the wind was particularly chatty, I could watch the light dance on the water, as it moved down the mountain. Sparkles and bells. The patterns of the sparkles and the sound of the bells and the song of the wind.
When I lived near the Ocean, the water roared. The difference between a house cat meow and a lions roar. Creeks and streams meow, the Ocean roars. I sat on the docks for hours, just looking at the water. The sun danced across the surface with the ebb and flow. I would look into the water and see what was there. Life happened in the water there.
Even when I lived near the great and, sadly, polluted Potomac river, I enjoyed the water. One could sit and watch the colors of the sunset/rise reflect off the water and know peace.
Water always knows where it is going. Down, towards the ocean, to join with the greater. Even the rain, taken from the larger, falling as tiny drops, know to go down, back towards the larger bodies. Seep into the ground, become a lake, move towards a stream, join to a creek, become river, always moving towards the Ocean. Repeat.
Be like water, the wise ones say. It is flexible. Nothing gets in the way of water. It just moves out of the way. There are times when water will rage and overcome obstacles by force. Water knows where it is going, and has not issue with taking it’s time to get there.