not quite a year.

This is the Tennessee River. Which winds and moseys its way across the landscape of the not too southern South.

Apparently, you can never step in the same river twice. But sometimes you do. Sometimes you just keep wading into the same river, until your shins get numb and the rock indentations in your feet harden, and the act of striding across the current takes every iota of your focus. Because the other options - being carried away downstream, or standing in mud on the bank - turn all of you numb. Not just your thoughts. Or your shins.