I grew up on a Riverbank in Minnesota, experiencing the water and animal life from a very young age. Adventuring down the jewel blue stream caused many likings towards nature. As the river flowed, it curved gently through the trees. On the other side there was what we called the “swimming hole”. It was the place I shot my first duck, hooked my first fish, and took my first swim. I never knew that this river would create many more memories that I would not have ever imagined. Some people think of it as a river, but I think of it as home. The lily pads, the pebbles, the dirt road all of it would be remembered as my own place.  Riverlife changes from season to season, changing nature and everyday life.

Winter's first snowfall. I stand at my windowsill, watching as the world falls silent. Snowflakes twirl and swirl as they fall from above. Snow covers the frozen earth and the air turns bitter. Walking outside into the shivery weather numbs your nose and frosts your hands. Gazing at the water it has turned into a layer of glass, still with hardly a movement. The rocks are unrecognizable, they have turned into clouds sitting atop of the subtle stream. Trees forming a white glow, and the plants now brown in despair under the white blanket. Stamps from deer surround our house and lead out into the river where they stop to drink. I see a family of ducks waddle through the snow then step back realizing the water is now a frozen mirror. They began to prepare to leave their home for winter. The animals seek shelter and all becomes quiet, but the small trickling of the river beside me. I’m reminded that there is a time when the snow melts and all will become green again.

I reach into the water and my fingers shiver as I feel the cold left behind from winter's icy shadow. Excited and rushing with movement, the current sweeps my feet into the frigid waters. The air is fresh, warm, preparing for summer. It's almost tempting to take a swim to cool off. As it begins to rain, the noise is like no other. The titter tatter on the tin roof of my house and the splashing on the pebbles comes together in perfect harmony. The river, now lifted covers the land in water. The insects now out of  hiding, finding their way around, adventuring, seeing what winter has left them. The plants back in bloom with the soft tint of green sway towards the sun. The sky is a choir of tweets and twirls, reminding me that they have came back home. The heat is rising and swims in the air around me, I sense summer is coming soon.

When you free your feet and feel the sand tickle and grip your toes you know it was worth the wait. My toes graze the top of the water, leaving a ripple slow and calm. Splashes from my brother’s hand disturb the slightly rippled water. Going deeper, it's colder and colder, but it feels good on my face, that was just shone to the sun moments ago. Getting out of the water and onto my sun-heated chair, I watch as the clear water shows fish that my brother is dying to catch. There is a hum in the air, synchronizing the animals as one. The fox, raccoon, birds, and even the mice, all seem to have a vibe of peace.

The seasons come and go, but this will always be my home. Down to the smallest grain of sand, to every fish in the river, I will never forget my roots and where I belong. It is a place of peace, wonder, and tranquility.  Minnesota Rivers, everyone has a story, a home, and a certain type of peace. I grew up on this land and its what I call my own.