On the Yellow River in October

 The Yellow River was green, as green as the Guadalupe in Central Texas.

We haven’t had rain, so the river, while low, was clear. And the autumn light comes in low.

We walked to the shoals south of the Rockbridge and just listened.

I thought of two poets and an essayist:

• Norman MacCaig said stones in the throat make the burn sing. It’s the obstacles in the current that give the river its voice.

• Kim Stafford said that when someone says something hurtful you can go sit by running water and let the lovely sounds carry the hurt away.

• Roy Bedichek said you don’t have to be a naturalist to enjoy wild places. Contemplation — as opposed to intellectual effort — comes naturally. You just drift along, “currents of musing.”