Riverwind

There are thirty-two canoes and when it is quiet and dark they escape the cabin into the map of the river. The buffalo watches, wishing. He stoically stares at the map, waiting, wanting their adventures. He remembers the river- the smooth stones, the breeze; the sunset leaves against the blue sky. He closes his eyes and conjures up the smell of autumn and movement. He hears the laughter of the water. When he opens his eyes he is on the other side. The little men from the cabin float by. It had taken years of focus, patience, and determination, and the water tasted better than he had ever dreamed.