Photo via Pinterest

And so I sat by the river, with its increased algae count and floating fish,

the side of which made my eyes grow big in thinking about them swimming around here, deep.

And I thought about the balance between feeding my readers too much, and feeding them too little. Enough

to satisfy a hunger without making overly full. What to scatter where. Boats from somewhere I couldn’t see

made the waves underneath me lap against planks of weathered wood, while the sky became overcast, the thunder

roared the river back to life, and the boat that was tied to the dock, slowly

slid away. Like fingers trailing, leaving a long slow winding ripple. Streams of light

visible only by way of their echoes out around the edges of wide and flat layered clouds.

The smell of brackish. Darkened sky.

And then, the rain. I think we forget so easily the transitions. How fast

the shift. How quick the change of air.