A letter came, tattered, stained, stamp stuck askew, I opened it carefully, lest it tear. For I knew, he had reached the far Westland, had written by firelight, far from the big city- “Preparing to tramp up The Braided River”, wrote Godfrey.
“Upper middle of nowhere is where I’ll spend summer, where gold is washed down to the rip-rap at Celebrate Bar, in the shallows I’ll pan for the jade or gold flakes or a nugget to mount for you, to wear on a chain, when we meet again. “And at Dream Big Bar, where river meets sea is a best place to fossick for gem-stone. There sand and water form a natural tumbler, and the days pass peaceful as I am here quite alone. Indeed, I dream big on the Braided River, no human rubbish, or shout or sign, in the white, squeaky sand the only bare foot prints are mine.
Treasure Bar, on the great river wide, higher up into the mountains the light from the snow fields, by day and the night sky…cause me to recall the wet, dirty streets left below. Was where a ring of gold I found, painted on the tar-mac- words chalked near to washed away- “Someone has lost their Halo”….why the vision stayed with me at that time, I could not know. “If there existed, such a place to find it again, it may be up Treasure Bar on the shingle bend. “Just one last pan, and a look at the sky, for the rain was coming, summer done. “One last one before I go, panned a perfect wee nugget of gold in the shape of a halo. Dream big, treasure, celebrate, where the river was shallow, and current slack, I stood knee deep in thanks. For the gold I had gathered.; bent low to the water, emptied my tin of dust and nuggets and gave it all back.” ” I kept the wee piece in the shape of a halo- shall have it set on your choice of a chain, when we walk arm in arm, those wet city streets, for you when we meet again.. (With Thanks To Lonewolf)