Fishing - My Accident

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