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©David Lewis Photography
Rock and the River Flowing
I walk beside the Yellowstone River, smooth and coiling, urgent in its flow. I walk upstream on the north side, past the Upper Falls on a lazy-warm July day. It is afternoon; scents of sun-warmed grasses and pine needles wash over me. I bask under the cloud-filtered sun. Near the end of my walk, thoughts idling, I see the rock. The rock catches my attention; the way it cleaves water, water split and rejoined. The way rock is island and community. The way rock is hard and alone and apart and the river fluid and racing, and time fluid and racing.
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