At the end of the path, there is light (Thames River Ramble Leg 11–Cricklade to the Source)

[[Note: I am posting this two days after completing this leg of the ramble. A complete set of pictures for this leg may be found here.]

I woke early on Sunday eager to get a quick start on my ramble, the final leg of my trip northward from Oxford to the Source. The 12.5 miles between Cricklade and the Source traverse a lengthy stretch of artificial lakes created in an area that once was home to numerous gravel quarries. The water here is abundant, but not in the Thames. Indeed, much of the Thames north of Cricklade consists of dry riverbed. My understanding is that this is not always the case; there are times of the year when the fields surrounding the Thames are prone to flooding. During these periods Thames Path ramblers must divert from the path to nearby roads. I was fortunate to not have to do this. The walk was lovely. [REMINDER: the picture below is NOT the Thames; it is one of those artificial lakes.]

What can one say of the Thames here? Alas, it is but a paltry reflection of the wonderous river that you encounter further south. As I walked this part of the path I was reminded of Abilene’s own Cedar Creek, a muddy stream that runs through my home town in Texas. It is not much to look at either. I’m curious if further downstream Cedar Creek might become as impressive as the Thames. Maybe crew sports could become a thing on Cedar Creek?

Between Cricklade and the source sit three small towns–Ashton Keynes, Somerford Keynes, and Kemble, home of the train station I would use in my trip back to Oxford. I considered spending time exploring Ashton Keynes, but my attention was completely absorbed with the idea of making it to the Source. The significance of completing the northern part of my ramble was inescapable, and my excitement grew as I made it to Kemble, just 1 1/2 miles from my goal. As I made my way through the sheep pastures bordering the dry creek bed that is the start of the River Thames, something magical happened. It began to rain, at first a light drizzle, but then a steady rain. I broke out my rain gear. Stepping forward toward the conclusion of my northward journey, I approached the final field, the Source of the river that has drawn me back to it every week these past few months. And there, a rainbow arched across the sky.

The image was a potent one in that moment. Thinking about the uncertain futures of people in my life whom I love, I’ve begun to experience this ramble as something of a metaphor for the journey of life that we are all on. It’s a journey filled with memorable moments that will last a lifetime punctuating long periods of mundane space where nothing significant seems to be happening. Every now and again you encounter people on the ramble who make an impression on you, and perhaps you on them. Your curiosity takes you into places you never expected to be. Sometimes you walk forward, compelled by this excitement about what lies ahead. Other times you walk forward in spite of yourself, tired of the journey but aware that there is a destination you need to reach before it gets dark.

And it does get dark. There are parts of the ramble where you can’t see far in front of you. There are days when it is cold. Your hands ache, and you forgot to bring your gloves. But you journey on. Your feet hurt. Your legs ache. You regret decisions you’ve made about where to start and stop, and how to get where you know you need to be. The clouds gather, and the rains come. You ramble on, and eventually you approach the end of your ramble, a Source that turns out to be a dry spring.

Reaching your destination, you take it all in. There is nothing grand about the Source. With no stone to mark it, the place might easily escape your attention. But you made it nonetheless. You’ve reached the Source. You pause for a moment, and again the rains begin to fall. It is a steady rain. It does not seem that it will stop, but as you make your way from the Source to begin your journey home, to family and friends, unexpectedly the sky breaks wide open, and the clouds give way. And there is a wonderous light…

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