Sept 16

Well I've finally made it up here. The place I'm staying is old, and frankly it looks as though it were abandoned, but its in incredible order inside, so what do I care, its the mountains. I went into town this afternoon, to get some grub. Not a bad place, some older people, a bunch of students. I'm excited.
On the way up here, Mom and Gramps met me at the canyon. I'd forgotten how beautiful it was, how clear the water is, how many animals live in the waters, how tall the cliffs of the canyon are, how long it stretches. I have always seen the canyon as some ancient causeway, pulling the energy of the universe through the rough layers of earth, but it had been a long time since I've walked that road.
Mom and I sat on high ground, reading, chatting about world events, looking out over the canyon. Gramps brought his fishing gear: a rod, his 'old trusty' bait (a small plastic Cheshire cat), and one clear box of water, with a shelf attached to one side. At the water's edge he set up camp, on a nice sunny outcropping. It wasn't long before he pulled up a gramps of a fish. Quickly and skillfully he removed the bait and placed the fish on the shelf. Gramps sat back in his chair and had a jovial and longwinded conversation with the animal. They both seemed to enjoy the afternoon, regaling themselves with decades of adventures and misfortunes. I’ll remember yesterday afternoon forever, watching Gramps be so happy. After several hours he threw the fish back, wishing him well and advising him not to eat worms. They can be hazardous for a fish's health. Right after Mom and Gramps left, there came a big thunder. I had decided to stay to watch the sun set, and as it set a flood surged forward. I ran toward the car, only to see a truck come rushing at me. I dodged the camper topped Ram charging down the canyon. Soon I was submerged and had to swim.
get low is what Gramps had taught me.
I pressed myself against the damp earth.
In this heightened state I could smell the on coming deluge,
the water and oxygen,
debris, all
rolling over me.
There were fish
trees
signs
flowers
clothes
birds
wood
sun
shadow
me
all thrown together.
The pressure eased
I turned my head
above me
a giant sting
ray of incredible
grace passed.
I finally let myself up,
the water was warm, and
at the surface I could
see
my car had
conveniently washed ashore. I did the breast stroke as twilight mingled, refreshed by the time I made it back to the car.