Essay: Leaky Faucet

Aug 22, 2020

When I walk into the bathroom at Brimley State Park, I hear water running in the shower.  I assume someone is getting clean, but after I’ve washed my face and brushed my teeth, the water is still running and no one has emerged.  



Peering around the corner, I discover that the shower head is dripping steadily and I try to twist the knob tighter.  No luck.  Not my problem, I think, but maybe I’ll mention it to someone.

My good intentions are lost, however, in the effort to stay warm.  Brimley State Park is located on the shore of Lake Superior and a north wind has turned late summer into early fall.  At night, temperatures dip to the forties and I’m grateful for all my layers, including dirt.

On the last morning of our vacation I share the row of bathroom sinks with a friendly woman who has a soft southern drawl.  She mentions the weather, of course, and then adds,  “I tried to fix that shower.”  

“Me, too.” I said.  And as I gather up my toothbrush and towel, I think how much life is like a leaky faucet.  Never quite right and all of us trying to fix it.