I didn’t plan this escape. It just happened, one of those sudden decisions where you leave everything behind for a while and let nature take over. That’s how I found this river.
At first glance, it looked wild and uninviting. Large, dark rocks scattered across rushing water, the current moving fast and steady. But the longer I stood there, the more it felt like an invitation rather than a warning. So I stepped in. Just wearing my sleeping pants and shirt, I wasn't scared to be all soaked.
The water was cold—sharply refreshing, the kind that wakes you up instantly. I carefully found my foot between the stones, feeling the current push against me. It wasn’t gentle, but it wasn’t harsh either. It was alive. Sitting there, surrounded by the steady rush of water and the stillness of the rocks, I felt oddly safe—like the river was holding me in place, not trying to sweep me away.
There’s something grounding about being in a place like that. No noise from the outside world, no pressure, no expectations. Just the sound of flowing water, the weight of your own thoughts, and the quiet realization that you needed this more than you thought.
I stayed longer than I planned. Not because there was something to do, but because there was nothing I needed to do. That was the point.
This river I found wasn’t just a place, it became a pause, my pause from a tiring world. A break from everything that felt too fast, too loud, too much. Cradled by rocks and current, I found a moment where things slowed down, even just for a while.
And sometimes, that’s all you really need.
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Disclaimer: all photos are mine and the lead photo was collaged using Canva.
