By Mara Lorch
Below my boots, bubbles sway. Slush forms in the middle of the wide river’s current, brushing against icy edges, sending sounds of change out into the open valley. Cranes shoot by above, heads stretching south. The chill in the air has ushered vibrancy out, welcoming in varying shades of white and blue, reflecting in endless different ways depending on ice crystals and mood. Leaves and algae are partially frozen in place: still barely green, clinging to summer’s quick burst. Recently, they shimmered brightly in the breeze above, but now they shiver below in the unrelenting river’s flow.
