Nothing lasts forever. What a relief.
Taken in the '60s or so, this photo was handed down from our dear neighbors, the McGreggors.
A calming reminder that most things come and go with time. It's just the way of life. Impermanence is part of the process.
The good, the bad, the beautiful, all of it.
Back then, the hills were more naked. The Water wilder. Structures of all types sprung up, then down, then up again.
Once a Shoshone Winter camp, then a homestead, a whirlwind of generational hand-offs, and eventually a start-and-stop adventure of loving folks taking their stab at welcoming others up to enjoy what they had discovered.
In the '70s, a man named Currie would float his hand-built wooden dory boat miles into the canyon to reach his home and off-grid hot springs paradise.
He farmed, he festivaled, and he told entertaining stories of a life well-lived far beyond this rural Idaho outpost.
Once, he would even fall into the source, burning his body nearly to death if it were not for his ability to crawl into a truck, drive miles, and find refuge in the McGreggor’s bathtub only to be found later on.
He lived. Over time, his cabin, his creations, and even himself would move on. His wild garlic patch, however, would revisit us every Spring.
Around here, we take history pretty seriously. And of all the lessons it teaches us, this is the most important we've found so far:
Impermanence is not a choice, but making peace with it is.
Cheers to the next 50 years of things coming, going, raising, falling, growing, and dying.
But no more falling into the Source Pond, ok?