'This is the story of a river and the keeping of magic and the making of water and the nature of love. Some would say that any story of water is always a story of magic and other would say that any story of love was the same. One day love laid down by the river. It slept in a blue patterned shirt and through the afternoon, though I watched, it did not stir but dreamed with the river and when it woke it saw me. Love was not the pattern of leaves and the texture of bark, it was not the underbelly