Regarding The River

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Photo by Louis Cahill


What can I tell you about her? The one that I love.

The one with whom I have left my heart. Dark and lovely. Moody and sullen, she gives little away. Sometimes capricious, never predictable, she keeps me in wonder, in awe. She keeps me for herself. She heeds no man. Selfish, she takes what she wants and wastes not the time to covet. She seeks out the low places, the dark and shady places. She keeps their secrets. I look into her face and I see only the sky.

She knows me. She washes over me, runs through me. She thrills me, frightens me. She gives me peace, makes me whole. She asked nothing from me and she receives it. I have given her my life and she has returned it. I enter her and she remains inside me when I go. She owns me and of her, I know almost nothing. She carves the earth in her image. She carves my soul.

I see her, sometimes when I least expect her. She takes my breath. My heart pauses for her. My eyes can not leave her. When I am awake I long for her. When I sleep I dream of her. Only when I am with her am I still. Breathless and still. The waning moon of my life stops for her. She is eternal, ceaseless, she suffers not the moments of my life. She gives nothing easily and from her I have taken the best of what I am.

Louis Cahill
Gink & Gasoline
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8 thoughts on “Regarding The River

    • Thanks Mark. I’m never sure how stuff like this will go over but I have to feel like anyone who fly fishes must understand this feeling. I was driving home at dusk and crossed the river. I have to sit up a bit to see the water from the car. In the evening light all I could make out was the reflection on the sky on the water and it just called to me. Thinking about all the time I’ve spent in that river with the light fading trying to get in just one more cast I was overcome with emotion. I truly believe that even the rowdiest fisherman knows that feeling.

      Thanks for your support!

    • I believe that’s the old bridge over the South Platte River below Spinney Reservoir, South Park, Colorado. The bridge is no longer there, hasn’t been for many years, so that dates the photo. This was once called the “Dream Stream” but was renamed in honor of a Rocky Mountain News outdoor journalist who wrote extensively about this great, but very heavily fished, stretch of river.
      Of course, I could be wrong, but don’t think it’s the Ranch section of the HF, Idaho.

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