I wanted to stay in a place where I could see water. If I close my eyes when I'm alone, I can imagine that I'm near a lake or a quiet river; that's on the rare occasion when I can quiet the din of noise, the memories, the responsibilities, the anxieties that bubble up like a spring inside of me. This noise, these  things to do, these defense arguments I have with myself are hard to smother, but sometimes, sometimes when I'm quiet and alone I can imagine being by the water.

When we got to the little cabin late in the day I went straight down to the dock. The water was still and dark. I relished the silence. Occasionally a fish would flap in the water. Across the little river and up on a hill were houses, cabins. Some of them looked like they were permanent residences; some were deserted and appeared to be strictly summer cottages. 

I love staring at water. This river is so different from THE river. There's no roar, no mud, no mythical great-grandaddy catfish trolling its innards. 

I heard a strange noise. It was coming toward me. It sounded like someone swinging a giant slingshot whish whish whish. Suddenly ducks, maybe 20 of them were heading toward me, the whish of their wings against the air lifting them off the water grew louder until they were right over my head flying in a V. I remained still as they rose gradually off the water. They quickly disappeared around the bend hoovering above the river and heading home to roost.

 

 In the distance, no telling how far away it was, I heard a weedeater or a tiller or some small motor buzzing away; just loud enough to prick the bubble of solitude. I waited until that motor stopped then listened again. I heard an owl and it was dark so I went inside where it was warm.

 

We arrived on Thursday afternoon, late. On Friday morning we drove into Heber Springs to get groceries at the local Walmart.

Oh, you who shop at Walmart, how do you hold onto your moneys?

Billy and I were entranced with the vast all-inclusive store. We had a list of things we wanted and quickly gathered those things in the grocery area, but the store seduced us.

"I'm going to electronics," Billy declared.

"I'm going to housewares," I said, "See you later."

I bought a fabulous ceramic dutch oven. It's a LeCrueset wannabe, enameled cast iron and perfect for soups which I make a lot.

We stopped at a little park beside the water on the way in. I could hear the voices of the men in the boat echoing as they spoke almost reverently to each other there on the water.

I understand why this country is in the trouble it's in. Everything in Walmart was so affordable and shiny I wanted one of each. Our basket was filling up.

 We shopped for supper and I bought a bag of Great Northern beans to put in my new soup pot. I could have stayed in Walmart all day just piddling around looking at what's new; remembering all the things in my kitchen that I've been living without. So, that's sort of weird. We went on vacation to the mountains and spent our first morning shopping at Walmart. 

 

Here's Billy at the little cabin by the river not long after we arrived. He's pushing the ottoman out of his way and getting our luggage into the room. After Walmart I dropped Billy back at the cabin and went exploring by myself. He doesn't like mountain roads or the way I drive.

"No, you go ahead," he said, "I have a movie I want to watch."

That suited me fine. I don't like the way he slams his feet into the floor board putting on his pretend brakes.

It was very very cold. The town is at the edge of the Ozarks and I experienced the cold as mountain chill, a penetrating cold that comes from wind combined with elevation.

My friend Regina had told me about the cabin as well as the migrating swans. The swans were the first thing on my to do list on Saturday.






In 1992 trumpet swans appeared on this lake. They were apparently blown off their migratory path. There are several families and 137 swans in all. 137 out of about 20,000 in existence. Trumpeter swans were hunted to near extinction back in the 30's. A few men and woman got together and decided they wanted to save them. They got legislation passed and began incubating eggs, and it worked.
What is it that would make someone kill a beautiful bird like this for no reason other than to watch it die? Who are we? Where are we in our evolution as human beings and when will we stop killing animals just to have something to kill? It's hard for me to understand why these birds were slaughtered. I don't even think they're edible are they?
Well, now that I have that out of my system I can go on with my story.

When I got to the lake there were maybe 20 or 30 people standing on the other side of a wire fence. It was a delight to see how proud these Arkansans were of their swans. There were parents and grandparents, children the whole community turned out to spend the afternoon at the lake watching the swans.

They arrive at the lake in late November and stay until February. 

Some of the people brought containers of cracked corn. The swans were used to the people and came right up to the fence to peer with one suspicious eye at these strange creatures. I know it's corny, but I just think these graceful swans look like fat little old ladies when they turn on their heads and stick their behinds in the air with their little black feet dangling uselessly. It always gets a laugh out of me when I see it. 



How's this for a suspicious expression? I got as close as I could, but the swan made certain I knew it was time to quit creeping closer. hmmpf! the big baby..
On second thought maybe it's programed into the collective memory of this group of swans that they were nearly hunted to extinction by people like me, people with guns instead of cameras who needed target practice. Oh, for a new day when spears are hammered into ploughshares. I know I'm preachy, but it does seem to me there is way too much violence in this world: people to people violence and people to animal violence, just plain violence.

OK that's our 3 day excursion to the little Red River in Arkansas.