Something has always intrigued me about rivers. My habit of daydreaming around the waters of rivers dates back to my childhood days by the coast of my native Cameroon. As a kid, barely seven years old, there were afternoons when I used to stand barefoot in the sand by the beach just to feel the waves of the Wouri river rush up to wash my feet. I would then close my eyes, stretch out my arms open to the blowing wind and wish it would carry me along on a flying tour over the roaring waters. I would often awake to realize how late it already was because then the sun would have gone home for the night. This to me was one of the most passionate feelings in the world.
Today, flowing masses of water still hypnotize me. When I sit by moving waters, I feel a dual personality within. The first person (probably my physical body) is often captivated by the sights and the murmuring sounds from the subtle movements of water as I intently gaze. The second is my psyche that takes a deep dive into my mind, bringing back thoughts from those hidden corners where the hook of my imagination would not have otherwise reached. That is why I like sitting by the riverside with a pen and my journal in hand, ready to pin down my capricious thoughts before they escape.
