Mountaintops are enchanting. We flock to them. There is power being on top. But I am drawn to the low-lying rivers. Patient yet mighty, they weave or roar their way through books and crannies, carving and deepening the valley, ironically making the mountains higher. They never stop working, carrying snowmelt from glaciers to oceans. They are both constant and erratic, powerful and gentle, busy and calm.
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