on saturday i started in middle class suburbia illinois at 6 am and by the afternoon i walked the shores of the mighty mississippi 520 miles 7 hours and 3 states away. on the soggy shores with a bare thick short branch as my guide i walked, felt my feet sink into the earth that Mark Twain saw water rise over. and though the wind howled and the cold air made my ears numb and sear with pain I heard her. I heard her, the river. I heard her sing a light murmering sound and as i stepped over jagged rocks and clover patches she told me a story, which i am not yet ready to tell. but someday perhaps, someday. and despite the dreariness of the day and the coldness of the air, she gave me hope, she raised my spirits and cast a smile 'cross my face. i saw mark twain in her and more. though again, i am not ready yet to say it all.

i'm not sure anyone still reads this but I have a strong feeling only dan will understand fully what I am here writing about and how the lady river mississippi told me a story as i walked along her banks, a cool afternoon in march, my best friend waiting behind for me with a blanket drapped 'round herself, wind slightly blowing the curly strands of hair off her face, then back on again, then off.