Rolling Creek Trail, late afternoon. The trail curved a bit to my right, which was south-west. I started to hear the water. After about 10 to 15 yards, the trail headed downward, and I could see Rolling Creek flowing from the west, moving at a good rate of speed. I stopped when I reached the creek, took a knee, dipped my left hand down into the icy cold water, and splashed my face a few times. I know that some fellas have their system conditioned in such a way that they can actually drink the water from the fast-moving creeks. I don’t understand that; and I do not foresee that happening with me anytime in the near future. But dousing my face with water from the Rolling Creek has never been a problem.
I remember a professor who said this, my paraphrase:
“I would much rather my students drink from a rushing creek, than from a pool of stagnant water.”
What he was talking about, when I first heard those words, was his integrity as a teacher. “Prepare for the teaching you will be doing for your students. They deserve nothing less. If you do not come prepared, they will know it, even if you don’t know … that you are ill prepared.”
The moving creek, versus the stagnant pool.
We have to keep moving. No way around it.