Growing up near the coast in Massachusetts, there is something that draws me to the water. When I need to feel grounded and centered I head to the Chattahoochee River, just a few miles from my home in suburban Atlanta. My intention each time I’m at the river, whether it’s in my kayak, on my bike, or running along its shores, is to notice something new each time I go. Springtime offers such great opportunity for this as everything is coming to life after the rest of winter. This week’s bike ride on the paths along the river did not disappoint. There were just enough new blooming trees and plants to dabble the fresh green landscape with color. The woods were just beginning to fill in and the glisten of puddles and pools showed evidence of recent spring showers. Geese were perched on the sidewalk, forcing me to sway between them and several new puppies were getting their training lessons on leashes as I passed. I like to stop along my route and climb out on the rocks to really feel connected to the river. I let my heart rate slow as I let my senses take over—the sound of water rushing over rocks, the fresh earthy scent, cooling my hands by submerging them as I follow a single leaf as it travels in the current. There were so many more people out enjoying this natural treasure as I basked in my solitary moment on the Chattahoochee. Later I noticed two men who had passed me on their bikes enjoying a moment on the same rock on which they had seen me. Maybe I inspired them to slow down for just a little bit and take in all the river has to offer. More likely the river itself was the inspiration.