River of ice

The river ran under me, rapidly disappearing under the bridge. I stood, and tried to capture its fast-moving motion, tried to imagine where was the source of all this endless energetic flow, and tried to picture the villages and fields the river will pass as it winds its way to a destination yet unknown.

The sun was setting, and a pale, pale glow of crimson mirrored on the dark flowing surface of the river. Ice, in bulky blocks and thin sheets, drifted along, floating with the motion of the river downstream. I watched the countless islands ice that dotted the river, their speed too fast and dizzying for the human eye. Some were like small hills, and reminded me of icebergs which hid its deadly secretly beneath the water, away from the world. Did the adrift ice know where they were going? Did they have any say as they were separated from the ice sheets further upstream? The icy shores revealed the depth of the river, and the depth of a dark, brooding abyss that lay beneath the river.

I shivered at the thought of falling into rapidly moving river. How cold and unpleasant it must be to be caught in the motion of time flowing by so rapidly, and be unable to control your direction and destination.