The mist clung close to the river
as I set out along the path
The air was cool, damp with floral scent
and the river’s slow breathing
Fell into rhythm with my steps

I stopped at Cow Tower
running my hands along its rough wall
I thought of the archers who once watched
The alert for danger
while today only joggers hurry by.

I hung around under its stone arch
I imagined barges gliding
unloading the weight of centuries
delivering the bones of the cathedral.

To stand there knowing those stones still rise
it felt like time was speaking directly to me
The spire of the Cathedral
cut the sky its reflection trembling in the water.

I sat on a bench
listening to the faint bells
and for a moment I felt
as though the city was whispering secrets
only the river could carry.

Children whizzed past on bikes, laughing
swans slid close to the bank
and I thought
yes, the river keeps every story
every step, every silence.

By the time the sun broke through
the Wensum gleamed like glass
I ended my walk
the river would keep moving
and a little part of me would keep flowing with it.

Every morning, I like walking along the river. It’s funny, but it feels like the river’s saying hi to me, like an old friend. The water ripples gently, the sunlight sparkles on the surface, and somehow all the stress from yesterday just drifts away. These few minutes make me feel lighter, like I can start the day fresh. No words are needed. I’ve always been drawn to rivers, I’d sit by the streams and canals in Singapore and listening as the water spoke in gentle rhythms.

I picture Cow Tower rising beside the water, its bricks centuries old, yet the river just keeps flowing. I run my hand along the cold stone and imagine archers standing guard long ago. I carry the heavy stone of life and the river guiding me along. Ahead, the cathedral spire reflects perfectly in the water. I sit for a while, close my eyes, and let the bells drift across the river. Swans glide by as if they own the place, kids laugh on the path, and somehow their joy is caught in the water too. I feel part of it all, reflected in the river itself. Further on, between the two cathedrals, the river winds like a silver thread, stitching together centuries of history, faith, and life. I like to imagine it stitching together my own journey too, from Tamil Nadu to Singapore, and now here in Norwich, even if it’s only virtually for now. I may be far from home but somehow the river makes me feel grounded and carried along by its calm and patient rhythm.

Every time I walk here, the river teaches me something new to listen, to let go, to carry memories without being weighed down, to find peace not in sitting still but in moving gently. By midday, when the sunlight hits just right, the water sparkles like glass, and I reluctantly get up, whispering a quiet thank you.

I always tell the river I’ll come back tomorrow, and the day after, because this is not just a walk. It is a conversation, a meditation, a ritual. The river carries my steps, my thoughts, my longing and in return, it gives me calm, clarity, and a quiet joy. Rainer Maria Rilke puts it beautifully words that always roll into my ears, ‘Be like water my friend and flow where you are needed yield and persist. Carry yourself and others without resistance.’

And so even from afar I keep walking. Each glint of sunlight becomes a quiet companion that reminds me the connection is not always about being there in person. It is about feeling noticing and letting the river carry both your presence and your memories. One day I will walk its banks for real but until then I will keep returning in thought letting its calm currents remind me that life like water always moves forward graceful patient and full of quiet wonder.