Mindful by the River

A Note Before You Begin Just past the berm at the end of our street, the Feather River runs south toward the valley. Most days it is quiet: green, slow, half-hidden by cottonwoods. In dry years it pulls back to a thread. In wet ones, after the Sierra snows let go, it pushes against the levee and reminds the town it is there. The berm does not stop the river. It lets us live close to it.