"You've got to go create a ripple."
Those words came to me as our youngest son and I tromped around the woods. Early in the evening or late in the afternoon, depending on how you measured it, we were doing what we do best: an adventurous young man now, once a boy, coaxing a mom to overcome her trepidation to explore nature and life without boundaries. Where would he lead me if I said . . .
"I need a ripple for this picture," I commented as I peered out over an impossibly calm and steady lake.
"Well, then we will need a really big rock," he said and scampered off in search of a small boulder.
"Wait!" I yelled.
But once he's on a mission, there's no getting him to come back or change course. Into the woods he disappeared while I waited, but only for a moment.
Seeing the the sun would set soon I needed to hike somewhere more familiar. The park wasn't that big, but I wanted to know where our car was.
Climbing up a ridge, I was thankful that the trees hadn't filled in so much that my view was completely blocked, but it was screened enough so that I couldn't spot him. Maybe he was back at the car.
And then triumph sounded, "I can make a ripple! I'll wait for you."
Where was he?
I'd forgotten about the waterfall that runs over the dam. Of course that would be a good place to step out over the stream. And that's where I found him.
"Ready Mom? This one's for you!"
Luckily I had my camera ready to capture this moment.