When you live near a river, you notice when the tide is high and when the tide is low. There are places you can no longer walk to or there are places you haven’t reached since last summer. Really, rivers don’t have tides, but the highs and lows can change from one day to the next. The river is change. The water brings logs that dam spots and bridge others. I’ve been walking this river for 30 years. I know it, even though it changes. The kinds of people who visit are always the same. They come and go with the seasons. In the summer evening, fly fishermen cast their lines, as silent as the wind. And the red sun goes down. Sometimes, I’ll spend four or five hours reading in my tree. It grows at an angle, so that you can walk into it like a staircase and when you get to the top, you can lie down and watch the sky above. The river changes, and yet, it remains the same.

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