River Winter

"...a river, suffering because reflections of clouds and trees are not clouds and trees."
-Czeslaw Milosz, Esse

The water's slower now; it's thicker. Maybe the river is saving its strength for Spring when it can host bears and birds and men and the fish they want and need.

Or maybe it's enjoying the solitude of a silent sunrise at 10AM. Of a lone eagle watching for one more salmon carcass to run aground. Of a moose that has long since given up the search for willow buds and is stripping bark from the young cottonwoods along the bank. Of the last merganser family finally heading oceanward to meet the river at its terminus--or its source. Of the blue and crystalline glow from the snow under a full moon. Maybe the river is slower now because longer days mean shorter dances with the Aurora.

We drink from waters we do not understand.

Spring will come, but Winter is good.