Getting My Feet Wet

First and foremost, I am not the sort of girl who usually gets herself into potentially dangerous situations, inside or outside. Today, however, was a little different.

Along the back and sides of my grandparents’ mountain house is a creek. There are also forests I like to wander around in (solid footing is nice), so I’m not totally opposed to the outdoors, but for the sake of this post, I will stick to the creek.

Growing up, it was not uncommon for me to go down to the main part of the creek, located in the back of the house, and walk on the dry land parts, where I knew I was safe (usually, there was also at least one adult with me, so that helped, too).

Anyway, today I, for whatever reason (seriously, I don’t know why I did it), agreed to travel through the actual water with my sister and cousin. While not very deep, the current is strong in some places and could sweep someone off their feet if they weren’t paying attention or didn’t step carefully. But I had agreed to come see the bridge they had found the day before and I was not going to back down and be forced to listen to their ridicule.

So, by watching where they placed their feet, I got my feet wet (and I mean that both figuratively and literally; my shoes are drying on the back porch) with the idea of doing something I had never done before.

I saw the bridge and we walked past it before turning around and  passing the house, ending up almost on the golf course and had to avoid being seen.

After making it back to the portion of the creek I have been familiar with since birth and climbing back up to the patio, we took off our sopping shoes and socks and went inside for lunch.

The whole experience made me think about how much I value knowing I’m safe. The whole time, or at the very least, during the beginning of the excursion, my heart was pounding with nerves. Overall, though, I’m glad I did it, even if I’m still not sure why I did it.

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