Like many fly fishermen in western Montana where the summer days are almost Arctic in length, I often do not start fishing until the cool of the evening. Then in the Arctic half-light of the canyon, all existence fades to a being with my soul and memories and the sounds of the Big Blackfoot River and a four-count rhythm and the hope that a fish will rise. Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world’s great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of those rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs. I am haunted by waters.
—Norman Maclean, A River Runs Through It (1976)
I'm not haunted by the waters but can relate to the underlying meaning. Guess this is called life and its ups and downs of everyday living. Honestly, I am somewhat haunted by waters now that I think of it.
When I was younger, my sister and I were swimming in the Mississippi. We were about ten feet apart. At that age I didn't know how far ten feet apart was but now I can visualize it and now know what ten feet apart means. I had trouble with measuring distance until I worked in turf grass research...with my feet spread, the distance is three feet, which is how far you plant turf grass plantings. Anyway, Susan was playing closer to shore and she was just about to sit. At that same time, a water moccasin (snake) went past her. She was facing me and didn't see it behind her. What a scare we both had. Even though I couldn't measure, we were taught what snakes were not safe for us to be around. I still hold my breath when I think about what could have happened. Probably not anything would have happened but you never know.
The other haunting was when my son, Greg, was about three years old. At that time, I was married to Bruce, Greg's father. Bruce, my oldest brother, his wife, Greg, and I were at my brother's wife's land. My brother and his wife were thinking about building a house on the property. It had a swampy area on the property that they were cleaning up. Oh, you think you know that something happened to Greg in that swampy area...no. Greg was running around without a care in his head. The four of us were taking our sweet time to get down to the swamp. All of a sudden Greg disappeared. There was a well that was partially covered. Greg fell into the well. He didn't know how to swim but God helped him and he didn't even go under. Greg learned how to tread water really fast. Bruce was very fit and trim and extremely agile, and strong at that time of his life. Somehow Bruce scaled the walls down into the well to save Greg. It all happened so fast like seconds. I've always been so grateful that Bruce was able to save Greg. Not that I wouldn't have jumped in there to save him but Bruce was like a flash of lightening and the next thing you know, he and Greg were out of the well. Thank God!
I know Donna had her rivers in life too. Here's a photo of the earrings