When in motion, water sparkles. When it wets a surface, it glistens. When still, it reflects. In its glory, it is transparent. Light through water refracts. It plays with light. Or is it the other way around? What else, in our common experience of nature, has such an incredible deal with sunlight?
Water in motion can be made to sing an infinite variety of tunes. As a boy, I spent many hours tuning a stream near where I lived. As I dislodged rocks in the stream, I noticed the water change pitch. As the water flowed over and around rocks, it trapped small pockets of air that magnified its sound. The larger pockets under cascades, made the low, hollow tones. Gurgles accompanied water’s passage over smaller rocks. Even when the stream was shallow, it would chirrup its way through the pebbles. I tuned it by diverting the stream, building cascades and adjusting the position of the rocks. The next day, a change in the level or the flow of water, brought about a whole new song. Not all of us had a natural stream to play in. Maybe your child or grandchild will.
The water we see with our mind’s eye, lives in a state that hovers between play and meditation. The water we see around us demands both from us. We need to know by our involvement, that they are one and the same.
Reflection takes its clues from water; the images we see are never simply on the surface; stillness clarifies.
Water finds the way, in good time.
Follow a child’s example. Children know water’s ways: play now; reflect later.