They are fat during the spring melt, thin when summer wanes. 

In winter, snow slows their progress, placing a halo of ice around them.  

In autumn, they play with leaves and rain, and an occasional evergreen branch. 

There is always mist and a rainbow in its midst when the sun comes calling. 

Calm with their frenzy, stoic as they giggle, tender power. 

Dippers plunge themselves underneath their crest, unafraid of the current and the long tumble only a couple of feet away 

While sparrows and tanagers sing hidden duets and soliloquies to the sky. 

The ravens dart above, in ones or twos, preferring a casual conversation about reason and magic, which are indistinguishable. For here is where skeptics and believers meet.

Around them 

The forest can be still, quieter than comfortable, with the movement of shadows, the changing of light tucked deep inside. 

But you know this is natural and your fear is combined with a sense of calm. 

Other times, the forest yells, trees vibrate like vocal cords, rivers force their voice up into the blue and gray sky between the trees and though you’re quiet, your body hums along with their voices. 

Some sweet water springs last year ‘round. You drink, even when the water is high, soaking your shoes and socks while you reach for the wildest water you’ve ever tasted. Every sip is your first. 

There are still a few old growths standing, with roots, twisting around themselves miles long, like fingers running themselves over the stomach of a lover.  

The smell of pine is as thick as syrup…until 

You hear one. 

As you approach, that pine smell is pushed down into the ground, taken away with the spatter, eventually moving downstream with the creeks. 

In each season, you hear small nuances in how their water…falls 

The twist of one note, a change in the rhythm of their syncopation. They are full of distortion yet never abandon harmony. 

And I think of something silly. 

They are like us, you and me.  

For I remember when I held your hand… 

Here 

…Listening…to them 

While the heat of summer scorched the world, and the rain of storms washed us away. 

I speak these words… softly… so that you might hear.