There was so much water. From down here, it was all I could see. No buildings. No cars. No people. Just water that kept coming and coming. Bits of wood and leaves floated by, never stopping, for new water was coming in right behind it. Busy water, in a hurry to get somewhere. It gurgled, like Melissa used to do in her sleep when the dust got bad. It was cloudy and smelled of fish. It was beautiful.
Although I grew up in the midwest, I've lived in the desert for the past 10 years. The first time I re-visited the Mississippi River after spending so much time away, I remember, like Kathryn, being amazed at the sheer amount of water flowing past, something those who have never experienced drought or extreme dryness often fail to appreciate.
