Locomotoring

During vacations, I work actively to find a river. This time, the early spring in Shasta made it easy to stick close to rivers. We started the vacation with a stay in a log cabin in Weed by the river. We would also end the trip with a stay in Dunsmuir, in a house by the Sacramento river. In fact, I am writing this blog, sitting on the patio, listening to the Sacramento river. It is a warm day here. Warm enough that one can simply sit in jammies.

I sometimes use the name River as my pseudonym. I fell in love with the name when I watched Josh Whedon’s space western, Serenity. The character in Serenity, with name River, is a troubled character. But until then, it didn’t occur to me that River could be a name. My earliest memory of river is that of Ganges in Haridwar, my brother and I feeding the fish standing by the riverside. I was perhaps less than ten. I remember large fish coming by in great numbers to eat whatever we were feeding them, possibly chunks of bread. My next powerful river memory is rafting down Colorado. You may have heard of native Indian tribal leaders who would claim an old oak tree as their own. If I were a tribal leader, I would claim the rivers as my own.