"Have people always done this to the places they live?" she asked me as she fought the wind.
"We are destructive." She said her little knees pumping up & down dangerously close to the handle bars; her bike is too small for her now.
"Yes, most of us are. Some don't mean to be. Some don't care. Some have little choice, they do what they need to do to survive."
"People are selfish to think they can do whatever they want." She complained pulling in beside me as we coasted down a hill.
"Yes, they can be."
"Mom, why do love this river so much?"
I slowed down. "I don't know. Maybe because I never lived near any other river and I don't know any better. Or maybe I don't see it as it is but as it should be."
"Sometimes when I know I can't see how other kids see. I wonder why I had to the be the one to get this." She admitted joining me. She leaned her bike against mine. They fell over together into the golden grass.
"I'm sorry. But Boo, remember strength is gained from over coming hills not from walking flat ground. Obstacles and challenges are good things. You are getting a head start on proving you are a fighter. It helps to make you who you are and you wouldn't want to be anyone else."
We walked onto the wooden bridge pausing to watch a lone duck fish in murky waters. Boo on tip toes leaning over the rusty top rail, "Fight." She whispered to the water.