My friend, Carrie, and I used to go stomping up and down Salmon Brook all summer long back in my hometown. Bikes were our main mode of transportation, so we’d pedal from opposite ends of town and meet up at the soccer fields at the far end of the park.

Carrie and I would slip and slide our way down the brook. The mini waterfalls, a.k.a. riffle zones, were where we’d lie and let the water cascade over our necks and shoulders. The deeper, swimmable pools were by the bridge, but we’d keep going until we hit the end of the park, then turn around and head all the way back up. I loved feeling like it was our own private water park, like no one else knew this opportunity even existed.

Earlier this week we saw a family wading in the creek along one of the trails where we occasionally walk our dogs. We smiled and waved, but I felt like we were intruding. My daughter felt otherwise and asked if we could go in. I told her we’d go in on a weekend when we had more time. Well, forgetting my promise, we ended up back on that trail the next Saturday. The weather was beautiful and no one was around. I got puppy dog eyes from her and the dogs, so in we went. I intended to barely wet my ankles, but the Labrador had other plans as she, not so gracefully, plunged into the water splashing all of us. She and my daughter raced up to the island and back, while the little dog barked at them from the banks.

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I stood there worrying she was squealing too loudly, the dogs shouldn’t be off leash, there’s got to be some slimy creature we didn’t want to encounter, my car seats will get wet, and how clean is this water, anyway? But the sun started to warm my back, so I turned and faced it with my eyes closed and soaked it in. When I reopened my eyes I could see that Ellie had been transported to her world of imagination. The look of pure joy on her face drowned out all of my worries, and the memories of my adventures with Carrie at Salmon Brook resurfaced.

Generally speaking, we don’t think about things until we have a reason to. I wouldn’t think about brook stomping just sitting on my couch, and my daughter would have missed the opportunity if we only ever walked in our neighborhood. We’ve heard it before, but it’s worth repeating: Wander off the beaten path. Take a chance by rerouting your day’s itinerary. A trip down memory lane may be what makes today worth reliving.