This image was taken in May 2006 by a former colleague of sorts. We were riding mountain bikes and stopped at this spot for respite. It is a grateful memory- of the man and the place. Especially the place.
"Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs. I am haunted by waters."
- Norman Maclean, A River Runs Through It
"One of life's quiet excitements is to stand somewhat apart from yourself and watch yourself softly becoming the author of something beautiful, even if it is only falling ash."
-Norman Maclean, A River Runs Through It
