Lessons from the Creek: Reflections on Childhood and Otter Friends

As I sit here, my mind drifts back to a creek near my childhood home — a place that still holds some of my most cherished memories.

It’s been nearly 35 years since I first stumbled upon that tranquil spot where I would come to form an unexpected friendship with a group of playful otters.

A Quiet Place of Wonder

I remember sitting by the creek’s edge, finding a comfortable perch where I could reflect on the day’s events. My young mind would wander between imagination and curiosity — but my solitude was never long-lasting.

The otters would arrive like clockwork, breaking the stillness with joyful energy. The soft swirl of water announced their arrival before I saw them — sleek bodies gliding gracefully through the current, twisting and diving with effortless ease.

Sometimes they floated on their backs, tossing stones like toys or snacking on the small fish they caught. Their playfulness was mesmerizing, and in those moments, the world seemed to slow down.

Curiosity and Connection

Our first encounter was tentative.
We regarded each other with a mix of curiosity and caution — two different species sharing the same quiet world.

Over time, though, something shifted. I began to feel as if I belonged there, as though the otters accepted me as part of their circle. Sometimes, I even sensed they were waiting for me — eager to share their world again.

I often wondered what they thought of me.
Did they see me as I saw them — a friend, an observer, or perhaps just a strange, land-bound otter? I’ll never know for certain, but I cherish that mystery.

The Otters’ Lesson

The otters were more than just part of the scenery — they were teachers.

They taught me about living in harmony with nature, about joy in the present moment, and about play as a form of wisdom.

Watching them interact with the world — quivering their bodies to confuse the fish, tumbling through the water without care — I saw a celebration of life in its purest form.

Time Changes All Things

The creek, like everything, has changed.
The otters are gone now, the landscape reshaped by time and human touch. But I still hold hope that their descendants swim there today — continuing the legacy of those I once knew.

Their lessons, however, have never left me. They taught me to slow down, to breathe, and to see the sacred in the ordinary.

In their playfulness, I learned freedom.
In their stillness, I found reflection.
And in their presence, I discovered what it means to truly belong.

The Wisdom of Play

In a world that often prizes productivity over presence, I return to those memories to remind myself of what matters.

The otters remind me to be playful, be kind, and be present.
To find joy in the small things — the ripple of water, the dance of sunlight, the laughter that bubbles up unexpectedly.

Sometimes, the best teachers don’t speak our language — they communicate through presence, movement, and the simple act of being.

So, to my otter friends of long ago: thank you.
Like the gentle waves you once created, your lessons continue to ripple through my life.

A Quiet Reflection

Pour yourself a calming cup of Kebaonish tea, take a step outside, and let the natural world remind you — wisdom often comes wrapped in play, stillness, and laughter.

Blog by Rye Karonhiowanen Barberstock