The River Flows To You

In the land of fire and ice, the harmony between the fragile landscapes and ceaseless rhythm of water creates a visual symphony between Earth and Water. From my aerial viewpoint, unreachable by foot, I watch these rivulets trace faded designs upon the canvas of Iceland's landscapes, sculpting and weaving paths through volcanic soil and arctic terrain.

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RachelSTWood

The River had been born in the womb of the mountains, cradled by the Earth, nurtured by the rains, and christened by the Sun. She had no knowledge of the Sea, not until the Wind whispered tales of his vastness, his power, his salt-laced kisses that tasted of freedom and wildness. And like a flame to the moth, she found herself flowing to him.

She embarked on a journey, sometimes slow and meandering, at other times rapid and furious, but always determined. She traversed through valleys and plains, collecting stories of the land and carrying life in her belly.

But the more she yearned for the Sea, the more she realized the tragic truth of her love. For she was fresh, pure, and unmarred, and he was vast, salty, and fathomless. Would he dilute her essence, would he swallow her whole? She knew she could not stay true to herself if they were ever to collide in the dance she wanted so bad. And yet, she pushed on.

Her journey was fraught with obstacles – rocks, logs, and thirsty banks, but the River persisted, for the path of love is filled with challenges that exist not to obstruct, but to instruct. And through every hardship, she learned – about her strength, her patience, and her capacity to evolve.

But here lies the tragedy of love – the moment River flows into the Sea, the moment her clean waters merges into his vastness, she ceases to exist. She loses her identity, her journey, her stories. 

As with all love stories, River becomes Sea, one leads to two, and life flows on in a vicious cycle.