| To this day I can't explain why I am
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| | the edge of the bank and could see that
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| still alive. I should be dead. My
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| | the flood waters had eaten away the bank
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| mother and I were visiting my grandmother
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| | a bit, weakening its stability. I had
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| and uncle, during my summer vacation. I
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| | been warned to be careful not to walk too
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| was about 10 years old . They lived in a
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| | close to the edge, since it could be
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| very rural area. The valley where they
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| | unstable.What I recall next is a bit like
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| lived was quite narrow, running north to
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| | a series of snapshots or flashes. I sort
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| south. It might have taken 5 minutes to
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| | of remember the bank below me suddenly
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| drive from one side to the other and both
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| | breaking away. I sensed that falling
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| sides of this valley, were heavily
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| | panicky feeling. There was a mad grab
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| forested. The western mountain side,
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| | for the creek bank. I recall flashes of
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| very green and wet and the eastern side a
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| | trying to grab roots sticking out of the
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| bit drier.A creek snaked its way along
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| | creek's bank. All these flashes
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| the length of the valley. It was fed by
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| | happening in a blink of an eye. And then
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| the melting snow and ice from the nearby
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| | click. I was sleeping. I was dreaming.
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| towering mountains. In spring time the
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| | That warm fuzzy sleep feeling you get,
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| creek became a raging torrent of water,
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| | when you are in the most comfortable bed
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| several times its summer time width.
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| | and are only half awake. I was suddenly
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| Very often it would flood the bottom of
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| | surrounded by a pastel light green haze.
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| the valley, where the fertile farm land
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| | No more awareness of any thing else.
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| was located. Grandmother's farm was
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| | Just floating, dreaming, and comfortable,
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| often flooded in spring time, if the
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| | in my own little green nirvana.The next
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| weather suddenly became hot. This would
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| | thing I remember was my mother pulling me
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| cause rapid snow melt, feeding the creek,
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| | up the bank by the arm. I was all wet,
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| making it turn into a huge monstrous
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| | cold and muddy. I have no real memory of
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| torrent of ever expanding water.By summer
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| | what was going on in the real world,
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| time the creek settled down, to a
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| | outside me, during my time in the fishing
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| fraction of its spring time size. There
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| | pool.From what my mother told me, I
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| was a highway lane size, main current
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| | understand that she couldn't get to me.
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| area, flanked by side pools fed by
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| | She didn't know how to swim herself. All
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| streamlets. These side pools had been
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| | she could do was yell to me to kick or
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| dug by the spring flood waters. A lot of
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| | tread water. She also told me to raise
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| the river bank was undermined by the same
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| | my arm so she could pull me up the creek
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| water power, that had dredged the side
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| | bank. I don't recall any of that. It's
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| pools.It was a hot summer day. My mother
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| | all blank.I remember taking a nice hot
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| and I set out to go fishing at the creek.
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| | bath later, to warm up. The water in the
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| We trekked across a field, then through
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| | tub was just fine. Any thing deeper is
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| some brush, to gain access to the creek.
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| | not for me.That event taught me a healthy
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| I was carrying a fishing rod and a can of
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| | respect for warnings about river banks,
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| worms, to be used as fishing bait. There
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| | which could cave in. I have since gone
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| was a rough trail at the edge of the
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| | fishing in a boat, but never by a creek
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| creek, leading towards where one of the
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| | again.
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| fishing pools sparkled. We walked near
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| |
|