Clear Green Rivers and Hot Rocks in Heaven

July on the South Umpqua. Floating on my back in a crystalline pool, gazing up, the periphery of my vision ringed by Douglas fir.  Flipping over, I swim in the currents, float on the eddies, then stretch myself on the flat rocks and bake dry.

In Paloma's secret garden, everything is damp and green, profuse with flowers, perfectly manicured and breathtakingly beautiful. It's a stunning spot, but it can't hold me. Again and again, I am drawn away from my loved ones, away from the fine food and finer music, drawn down the bank to the river's edge.  I find a sweet spot in the current that provides just enough resistance for me to swim in place, the water clear and cool but not cold. I lay my head in the current and listen to the river murmur and sigh.

In that rarest of moments, in that sublime location, I am at perfect peace. I am released.

If there is a heaven, I hope it has a river. I hope heaven looks and feels like July on the South Umpqua. I hope my friends gather with me in the secret garden to make music, eat and laugh. 

And, if there is no heaven?  Then I will hold the memory of Tiller in my heart and die happy.