At Sunrise Everything Is Luminous But Not

Eventually, All Things Merge Into One, And A River Runs Through It.

As For My Father, I Never Knew Whether He Believed God Was A Mathematician But He Certainly Believed God Could Count And That Only By Picking Up God's Rhythms Were We Able To Regain Power And Beauty. Unlike Many Presbyterians, He Often Used The Word "beautiful.

In Our Family, There Was No Clear Line Between Religion And Fly Fishing.

I Sat There And Forgot And Forgot, Until What Remained Was The River That Went By And I Who Watched. On The River The Heat Mirages Danced With Each Other And Then They Danced Through Each Other And Then They Joined Hands And Danced Around Each Other. Eventually The Water Joined The River, And There Was Only One Of Us. I Believe It Was The River.

At Sunrise Everything Is Luminous But Not Clear.