Spore of Adventure

The Eno River Watershed, infinite diversity. The plan was to walk the quarry path and maybe sit in the spotlight of sun on the high bluff overlooking the river, if Grayson was up for it. He rode in the backpack carrier and promptly, but not surprisingly, fell asleep on the trail within the first 5 minutes.

About 40 minutes later he awoke just as I descended a wooded slope to a bubbling bend in the river. He immediately stretched out his finger and uttered a slightly tired, yet hopeful, coo towards the shimmering water. We had never stood at that spot before. We didn't know exactly where we were, but we were glad to be there.

While he had slept, I found myself on a blissful bushwhack. He didn't seem to mind at all. It wasn't the original plan. Some spore of adventure settled upon my will and quickly germinated. I departed the trail at a dense green carpet of locally rare ground cedar, which I considered a sign of unique geography worth exploring. Standing in the middle of the lush ground cover, I noticed a not too distant ridge of dappled light through the trees, signifying the edge of a bluff. Soon I was standing on the break, in an airy woods, surveying my options. My ear caught a faint gurgle of water below, and so I went with gravity, gradually down the gradient.

I feel that I know the Eno well, yet often and again I am stunned by its secrets. We stood at a simple, beautiful corner of river where angled light danced from the turning leaves to the emboldered stream. Deep shadows rolled off the backs of the smooth, large rocks. The water was clear today. Grayson pointed again. My camera's battery gauge blinked a red warning. I sighed, but it didn't really matter; I wouldn't have been able to capture that moment with a million button pushes.

We walked back a slightly different route (adding a couple more adventures), but still through the woods, up and over the ridge, through the cedar patch, and finally back along the familiar trail.