There is ample opportunity to experience White River (which is really very brown) in the Village. . . by renting a kayak at Rusty Moon, putting in a canoe, or just sitting on the bank. I often find my way to the river's edge by parking at the Art League then wandering through the sculpture garden to end up on the shore.

What amazes me is that no matter the season, the River offers lessons: 1. The ripple of water moving over the river bed is how our Village got its name; 2. The water flows continuously no matter its depth; 3.Water stays in or near its banks unless torrential rain causes a flood; 4. Movement is constant although the river looks like it stays the same.

These same kind of ripples and patterns can be seen elsewhere in our lives. Look at flowers and trees. The trees (at least in Indiana's four seasons) know when to bloom, turn colors, and rest. I marvel that roses choose almost the same time each year to bloom as do violets, daffodils, and crocus in the spring, daylilies in July, and black-eyed Susans in August. It gives me pause to wonder how they have been "programmed" to do what they do.

No less miraculous are our seasons. Growing up in Indiana, we always say, "Wait a few minutes and the weather will change!" With mostly small swings but sometime big variations, our weather still marches to four seasons. This past summer, the coolest on record, was a pleasant surprise. Our seasons know what to do and approximately when, but sometimes they do surprise us.

The birds have their patterns too. Hummingbirds know when to head north and return south. House wrens come back to my yard in May. Goldfinches begin their nesting in late August. Winter birds return with the cool temperatures. The rhythms persist year in and year out. Somehow nature seems to understand the value of ripples and patterns. Could it be that if we humans honored them too, we would be a bit happier?

The conventions I learned as I grew up had distinct patterns as well: youngsters were to respect their elders, manners and politeness were part of everyday activity, and childhood was to be just that with growing up to come in due course. Not always so today. I look at nature for the most part still accomplishing its intended course and not in chaos as our lives seem to be today. Oh that our village, neighborhoods, city, country, and world could have more of the natural world's way of perpetuating time-honored patterns.

Sometimes as I sit beside White River, I find myself philosophizing: 1. We need to keep moving no matter what happens. 2. We need guidelines so that our lives flow in the right directions; 3. Just as the river is what it is without pretense for being anything else, we must be content with who we are. Yes, the White River can hold lessons for each of us if we take the time to go seek and learn them.