explaining gently that women fought for my right to do so, I become the Gihon River rising after rain, a birch tree telling me that I have a base of stones. I know the stones. I know without them I’m not a river. But see this big rock beneath the bridge? See the water course from it in not one, but every, direction?
I can appreciate the image of the rock under the bridge and what it does to the currents.