The Etowah River
Grandma said she's never seen so much clover in the yard. It must be the rain. I think it could also be Grandpa.
It is bound in soft, caramel Italian leather. It came from Venice in my sister’s luggage years ago. It has a large water stain on the cover.
Where we sat on the shore this day, the river runs so calmly and shallow, one could easily walk across it, which I was tempted to do in order to reach a collection of bronze colored boulders rising from the water, where fifty or so little birds were perching between water dives, feeding on tiny insects or fish or fresh water mussels—I can only guess.