by Pat Veretto

Created on: January 27, 2007   Last Updated: May 14, 2007

My most favorite place of all when I was a child was a certain spot on a three rail pole fence that jutted out into the river. I would go there and daydream my troubles and trials away.

This river is a narrow and shallow one, but its size is common enough on the high plains and mountains of the Western US. It ran cold and clear, and I would watch the dimples and dips glitter in the sunshine as I poured out my heart and soul to the cold water dancing not far under my feet. It seemed as if any trouble I would bring to this place would wash away downstream, never to be seen again.

That river made such a mark in my childish heart that when I grew older and experienced the pain of love gone wrong, I wrote a song called, "Oh, Lonesome River," wherein I told that old river of my pain and tears and it absorbed it, just like always. You don't even notice tears when they're mingled with river water.

My favorite place taught me a lesson that has sustained me over many years.

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