This morning we took a drive out toward the river to check for flooding. One of the groups had called and said they thought the back road was blocked off. It was, but not because of the water. The river was still contained in its banks but barely. I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to try and swim across a river. They used to have to cross rivers when traveling from the center of the country out West.

Sometimes men would be washed away while they crossed. And there would be no burials or searching for bodies. The rest of the travelers would just have to go on. The currents, even in a small river, seem like something you wouldn’t want to get caught in. It seems like it wouldn’t be that far or that hard, but all it would take is an invisible tree passing by underneath and the whole thing would suck you under.

Later when the boys were home we checked out the creek. It rained last night. You could tell by the mud and the puddles and foam. The windows were open which always makes the best sound. We looked at the water but didn’t stay long. I followed them all out of the woods into the wellfield, and then through the tree-line to approach the hill. The boys ran. We walked up and I raised my arms and took a breath.