When I am headed north to Maine each body of water seems like an invitation to swim. I study rivers, lakes, bays, ponds and the ocean as we make our way up the east coast. During this year’s early trip to Western Massachusetts the rivers seemed to call my name as I drove past. Now home in Virginia the pond is singing like a river in June.
“You taste like a river in June.”
–Arkaye Kierulf, from section 11 of “Spaces”