Feeds, flows, streams, and river guides!
Yesterday at this time I was pushing a class 4 rapid called the chute in a bright blue rubber raft all folded in tight and screaming bloody murder at the Sierra chilled whitewater washing something wicked from up high. A wondrous day in the stream. Languid meanderings punctuated by sudden and carooming chaos and water-laden thunder.
You can see it clearly from the shore, and tack the line drawn by rafts as they thread their way through the tumult. But it's the river guide who does the negotiating. The river guide reads the flow. The river guide triangulates the angle. The river guide calls the speed, the stop, and the pause.
We live in flow. We pace it like the river guides.







