The Cold, Cold River. May 11, 2009Posted by littlebangtheory in Uncategorized.
Tags: cold river, existential blatherings, fog, mist
Our local Cold River is a seasonal thing, raging during the Spring thaw and swelling preposterously during periods of heavy Autumn rain.
But mostly, it’s a small, rocky creek in a deep, narrow valley. And morning finds it casting off its quilt of mists and vapours, consolidating itself into a stream once again after an unobserved night off:
The transit runs both ways, with the river’s exhalations moistening the sky as the sun concentrates on vaporizing the aqueous world below:
I have to admit to loving it here, at the risk of proving myself to be provincial. It’s not the most magnificent example of anything, it’s just what I know.
And I like it.