On the river

Willamette River ran high today...

The river was high today.  The early spring snow that fell Thursday morning, already slushy with the dawn, was gone by late afternoon.  Gone to the river.

...because of the snow yesterday.

I paused by a bench on the Vera Katz Esplanade, right down at the level of the water.  Flotsam drifted by.  The fuscous water slid at me, passing under my feet.  For an instant it seemed I stood at the prow of a sloop pushing her way against the current.

On the river --when you're on the river --whatever slides by on the river banks --thirsty fields, cities, lovers shy and brazen, acts of heartbreak, acts of heroism --is passing distraction, mild curio.  It is human to invest yourself in it.  But foolish. 

Because the river sweeps you past it all.