Blue Skies Again

Yesterday's skies were blue and the air was dry -- though the ground squished beneath my feet as I went out to fill the bird feeder.

A fairy ring of mushrooms had sprung up in the pasture by the road.

And as I crossed the bridge over the French Broad at Barnard (aka Gudger's Stand for those of you who read my books), I saw that the river had overflowed its bounds and was washing into the little park where the paddlers put in.

The river is so high that none of the usual rocks show -- though the white water hints at their presence just below the surface.

Some kayakers were in the park, getting ready to set out. They'll have a mighty quick trip down to Hot Springs on the wild waters.

For those who emailed me to ask how Ethan and Aileen are doing in their new home near Atlanta where there's been so much flooding, the young uns are fine. Their house is on high ground -- but it took them an hour to get to work rather than the much shorter usual drive. Two bridges were closed and they had to go the long way round.

What an introduction to the joys of home-owning!

The River

Though we don't see the river from our house, it's an abiding presence in our lives. To get, well, almost anywhere, we have to cross the river. I love the sight of it and it always shows up somewhere in my books.

from Signs in the Blood -- Little Sylvie at the river:

I looked at the river, runnin there so fast beneath the bridge. Teacher had showed us on a great map how a flatboat could go down this same river into Tennessee, on to Alabama, back to Tennessee and Kentucky all the way to the Ohio River and from there to the mighty Mississippi and right smack down to New Orleans. And in New Orleans, she told us, you can get on a ship that can take you right around this world.

It seemed a marvel to me that his same water I was lookin at would travel so far while I stayed put. I thought how I would like to go on one of them boats and see all them places . . .