I discovered my river when I was three years old. I was on a berry picking expedition with my mother. It was early fall.
Though I don’t remember directly, we were probably picking highbush cranberries. The aspen leaves were just starting to drift down; still a pale yellow, not the deeper yellow of deeper fall. I watched one leaf float down. I see it still and, behind it, my river. I shouted the discovery to my mother. She turned and put her finger to her lips, and I realized the river was an important secret.
Over the years, I have had many opportunities to report the location of my river to municipal, provincial and federal authorities, but I never have.
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Robert, beautiful images ….. the light, simplicity, the feeling……thanks for sharing the link 💕👍
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Hi Rob, beautiful shots – very evocative of rivers all over our wonderful province. Cheers
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Rob, the images are amazing. I can imagine the sounds, smells and solitude. BK
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Beautiful. I love the way you see things, and you capture them perfectly.
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Beautiful work, Rob! And an equally beautiful river!
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Love them, thanks for the link, Rob
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