The River Home

This is the time of year when you curl up with a good book.  A good book and nearby a pint of something malty and dark and you in your leather chair.  If possible, you are by the fire in the one room of the cabin with your favorite Labrador.  Telephones not allowed.  For that matter, no electricity.  You dream of your favorite water.  Maybe the Brule in Wisconsin.  In your dream, maybe there are mountains, maybe only the rolling hills of your home county.  Maybe there are memories, in black and white, of you and your fishing buddy from a time long ago.  There might be snow.  But for sure, there is quiet - peace and quiet.  Definitely peace.  Pacem. And moving waters.