The Wind and the River

 I wrote this yesterday when I was out for a walk. It was for my kids . They liked it so I thought I'd share it here.
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I went the the edge of the river today. I was watching the place where the current meets the wind. I imagined this conversation between the two .

 "Hello wind." said the river curtly " I see you've come to trouble me up again. I  haven't seen much of you lately. I hear you've been pretty busy down south."

"Well, I do what I must.", breathed the wind in a self assured sort of a way. 

The river continued as though she hadn't heard the wind at all, "Having you gone all this time has caused me to reflect (in a way that only calm waters can). I was thinking of you and how you seem to be your truest self when you're moving."

"That's the silliest thing I've ever heard.  If I didn't blow, what kind of a wind would I be?" he said with a hearty laugh

"You're very unpredictable. I thought I resented that about you. Then I looked myself over. I scanned my banks. Completely untidy.  I love to spend my time flowing and trickling  gently . Without you, though,  there's no one to blow the refuse downstream. The fallen branches and the dead blossoms lay still, waiting for you to push them to my edges where they can return to the earth and make themselves useful again."

Then the wind touched the river and they danced  in ripples and curves that turned in on themselves gracefully. A long time passed quickly, the way it always does when something sublime and beautiful is going on. The river admitted how nice it felt to not be dancing alone.

"We have our own song,  don't we?" the wind respired  "You're so lovely to dance upon and I can only be seen in what I blow on. I don't look like much at all on my own. You do realize that without me you'd be a stagnant mess.  You're so full of your meandering thoughts and fruitful flows. I love that about you. It's just that I was made, I was meant to move you along."

The wind murmured something to the effect of the river having already known all of this. You know, about needing him and all. He said it delicately, so that the reeds and the beavers wouldn't hear.  He loved the river though she fought him and, when he was away, he dreamed of her and how she moved along so well and swiftly when he was near. Filled with affection,  he blew through the branches of the flowering apple trees and showered her with springs sweet version of the snow.
The river blushed blue. That is, of course, how a river smiles.