A World in Itself...

Heron Reflection 2, a photo by paynehollow on Flickr.

The river is a world in itself, separated from the country through which it flows by invisible walls. Its seasons are not the same as those of the country inland. The river air is softer, a little misty always, except in those times when all the land is scoured by the north wind...

When we first came to the river in autumn, the brilliant coloring and the stark contrast of the hills were left behind. The green willows changed to gold, faded and scattered their leaves as imperceptibly as the course of the sun moved southward. On sunny days the pale yellow shores seemed afloat on the heavy blue water. In the mild air, the migrating birds lingered, softly whistling fragments of their summer songs...

~from Harlan Hubbard's, Shantyboat: A River Way of Life, published 1977 by University Press of Kentucky