On a day when the clouds mop all the water from a billowing sky to wring liquid greyness into my head, I follow a single trail along the riverbank. The water is a renaissance painting: greens frill & flow beneath a surface of softly shimmering glass. I am reminded of The Wind in the Willows & my grandfather who gifted the audiobook I played for endless months as a child. Still, the rain falls relentless, outside & in. I scramble down a steep, muddy bank. Grip brittle roots for handrails. Dive & submerge into a perfectly clear moment: the darkness is shattered. I return to the light.