Pure Slush

flash ... without the wank

Bear Creek

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by Levi Andrew Noe

 

I wanted to walk down by the water. There was that certain light that only autumn can create and the yellow on the cottonwood trees looked so warm to me.

Watching water bugs do what only holy men are supposed to be able to, I searched for patterns in the current. Anything that could add up, bring me closer to the comfort of answers, or glimpses of the great design. I tested the creek’s flow with rocks to see if they would skip or sink, they mostly sank. Still not satisfied, I fed ocher leaves to the stream to see which would collect in the eddy of a small boulder and which would find the current that carried them further.

I watched so closely, I almost fell in, just so I wouldn't have to look at you or feel the bright, soft stab of sunlight echoing the cloudless sky on Bear Creek. The water was a reflection of the sky, the season, our hearts, our flowing frailties and our eternal cycles. The water was a moving mirror and I wanted to look, but I couldn’t. I looked at everything else, just to avoid the reflection.

I continued to document the direction and the frequency of bubbles, sticks and other debris just to delay the thoughts of us, of reality, and the inevitable current of the stream.

 

published 30 June 2016