Here in Bend, Oregon, hanging over the Deschutes River on the pier used for docking canoes and stand up paddle boards, I sat. The river was flowing slowly beneath my feet carrying odds and ends of floating debris from? … Who knows where? … When it came by.
The thing was mostly underwater, and much larger than the fallen leaves.
What was it?
As it drifted past, beneath my feet, I could finally see clearly through the reflections on the water.
I shrank back in surprise — jumped to my feet and yelled,
“How could that fall? Into the water?”