081313 #copperhead #water And then as evening proves inevitable once again, even the sound of the rushing water changes. Sitting in a grounded boat, ah, there's nothing more calm and confident than that--until the hour of departure begins to race with the departing day. Every minuscule echo of current on rock begins to grow more cavernous, suggestive. The hollows of this little river yearn toward the bigness of the ultimate destruction of the sea. All water is doomed.