Cahaba River Ramble

The cricket frogs called calmly
As if nothing unusual was happening.
I scanned the log jams close to the riverbank for turtles but saw none there.
The branches stretched out from the water offering sun baths and dryness.
A friend asked me if I knew the birds calling along the trail. "No, I said", wishing I did as I awoke to their songs all around me. Flowers bloomed all over the river- cahaba lilies, justicia. Occasionally, the slow plucking of a banjo frog. I slow to look at a flattened rough green snake partly embedded in the dirt. A young girl runs past me, an old man runs past me. I push on, surveying the sunlit river beside me. The sky is apparent above the trees and my eyes linger on it.