Another happy memory

When my surly teenager Hank was four, he was an absolute delight. He was a curious little guy, who talked up a storm. He loved school, trains, tropical fish and the song "Wide River," which I thought was very cool considering I had many fond memories attached to quite a few Steve Miller tunes. The radio stations seemed to play "Wide River" continuously when we were in the car, and we would sing the lyrics:

". . . Run like a river in the setting sun,
Run like a river that has never been won,
Run like a river to all-always be free. . ."

It was our song.

That was 1993, and my parents came to Colorodo that summer to spend some time with us. So, we rented a condo in Keystone for a couple of nights so we could take blue spruce walks in the cold morning sunshine. If you've never been up in the mountains, you should know that up at 9,000 feet, the sun is brighter, the sky is bluer, the air is, well, magical.

One afternoon in Keystone, the six of us were taking a walk along one of the paths. When we came to a foot-bridge spanning the river. As the icy water churned over the rocks, Hank paused half-way across the bridge to take in the view and listen to the sounds. He began to sing "Wide River," so I joined him. We were frozen in time, and all the others seemed to disappear.

I really miss that little boy.