Eileen Hennemann
Our walk to the grocery store takes us over a bridge. We usually stop halfway across to look at the water below. The Mississippi river flows beneath and goes on to become our town’s Grand Falls. Until then it moves at a leisurely pace.
It’s a shallow river that offers a silver, orange or indigo plate that reflects the sun, sky and clouds. And when winter’s deep cold sets in, the river responds with its own kaleidoscope of icy colours. It challenges the sky and its glorious displays with its own palette, just waiting for a traveller to stop and look down.
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