To this day I cannot explain why I am still alive. I should have died. My mother and I were visiting my grandparents during my summer vacation. I was about 10 years old. They lived in a very rural area. The valley where they lived was very narrow, flowing north and south. It may take up to 5 minutes to drive from one side to the other and on both sides of the valley, it was heavily forested. The western side is very green and wet and the eastern side is slightly dry.
A stream flowed along the length of the valley. It was fed by melting snow and ice from nearby high mountains. In the spring the stream became a torrent of water, several times the length of the summer. It often flooded the valley below, where there was a fertile farm. My grandmother's farm was often flooded in the spring, when the weather was suddenly hot. This can cause rapid snowfall, erosion, and flooding.
By summer the stream was stable, reaching half the size of the spring. There was the size of the highway, the current main area, surrounded by side lakes fed by rivers. These side lakes were dug by spring floodwaters. Many riverbanks were destroyed by the same force of water, which engulfed the side lakes.
It was a hot summer day. My mother and I started fishing in the creek. We cut through the field, and then we passed a certain place to get into the stream. I carried a fishing rod and a can of worms, which were to be used as fishing gear. There was a trail at the edge of the creek, which led to one of the fishing ponds glistening. We walked along the shoreline and noticed that the floodwaters had eroded, which weakened its stability. I was warned to be careful not to go too close to the edge, as it could be unstable.
What I remember next is like a series of abridged images or light. I remember the bank below me breaking down suddenly. I felt that dreadful feeling. There was a mad river bank. I remember the light trying to catch the roots coming out of the river bank. All of this flash happens in an instant. Then click. I was asleep. I was dreaming. That warm feeling of sleep you get, when the bed is very comfortable and awake. Suddenly I was surrounded by a blue mist. No more awareness of anything else. Just floating, dreaming, and comfortable, in my little green nirvana.
The next thing I remember was my mom pulling me by the arm up the beach. I was wet, cold and muddy. I have no real memory of what happened in the real world, other than myself, during my time at the fishing pond.
From what my mother told me, I understand that she could not reach me. He did not know how to swim. All he could do was shout at me to kick or step on water. He also told me to raise my arm to drag me to the riverbank. I don't remember that. Everything is empty.
I remember bathing in hot water later, to keep warm. The water in the bathtub was fine. Anything too deep is not me.
That incident taught me to respect the warnings that could be broken on the banks of the river. Since then I have been fishing by boat, but I have never crossed a river.
You must be logged in to post a comment.