On the Rocks, Please!

"On the rocks! Stay on the rocks!" I bellowed at the top of my lungs as I watched my oldest son 'accidentally slip' from the huge boulders into the river as we enjoyed a spring break adventure in the Smokey Mountains National Park at Chimney Rock Picnic Area. No broken bones, no banged heads, and coincidentally, no 'accident' that he ended up in the river instead of on the rocks! You see, the 'baby', had already executed a perfect two foot jump into a shallow pool which had formed at the quiet edge of the rushing mountain cascade and his best four year old exuberance shared the thrill of the cold plunge with all who would listen -- since he has the lung capacity and booming vocal characteristics from my husband's family, he was heard clearly throughout most of the Smokey Mountains! And, speaking of characteristics from my husband, both of our boys garnered the 'slip in the Smokey Mountain river' gene from their daddy. Only 15 years ago, we had to make an unplanned shopping excursion to the outlet mall because my husband 'accidentally' slipped into the river soaking the only shoes he had with him for the entire weekend. No matter how aggravating soggy, smelly, river drenched shoes are, the boyhood joy and youthful zeal witnessed in climbing over, around, beside and on the gigantic boulders which shape the course of the river and tune the river's roar unequivocally intoxicated me with pure happiness. The adventure had at the edge of civilization yet truly in the middle of a sometimes powerful, presently playful river provided glimpses of fading childhood and pending manhood. The moments of conquering the massive boulders with the agility of a mountain lion were paired with straddling dead, fallen trees making pre-adolescent comments and gestures. The boy who hasn't willingly let me 'shoot' him for months suddenly posing on one boulder after the other until he is certain that my trusty Kodak and I have captured his essence. Astonished by the power of the river to move the huge boulders, amused by the screams he could elicit from his sister by throwing rocks into the river near her vicinity, my oldest son bewildered me for hours as I realized once again how quickly he is growing into a young man. Not to be outdone by her brothers, our daughter purposefully and boldly marched herself right into the rushing waters in her bright pink croc-knock-offs to strike her best picture perfect pose. And there is another pose; and possibly one more. A few on the rocks, some by the rocks, a couple more behind the rocks, and even one or two between the rocks. These are the days that digital cameras were made for! Only a couple hours later it seems that months of struggles and daily frustrations were whisked away by the breeze and rushed downstream by the river rolling over the rocks. We stretched out on a couple of deck -ottoman sized boulders to enjoy and contemplate all that was good and right in our world right then and there. I never knew a boulder could be so comfortable, so inviting, so relaxing. KERSPLASH! I was still there with my 12 year old boy who loves to heave small boulders into the water near his sister and mom! As we manuevered over, beside, between and around the boulders and rocks of varying shapes and sizes to our point of entry, I breathed in the adventure and accomplishment of the afternoon and was pleased to abandon the 'rule' of staying on the rocks!