by Jack Daley

Created on: August 06, 2009

"The Day I Fell In To the River."

There's nothing I like better than a cloudy day. Well, almost nothing....

You know, I mean the big white puffy clouds that you get with the bright blue-sky way up above them. And, sometimes birds up above, too, gulls coming ahead of the storm, or a flight of long necked geese. We saw an eagle once when I was up in Mariposa hiking with Billy and Uncle Alex. It disappeared right into a cloud and then came out like miles later on the other side. Some of my best adventures have come on cloudy days.

Like, the time I fell in to the river that was a cloudy day. It must have around one thirty or so when dad dropped me off at the freeway exit. It was late March, the last day of Spring break. It had been raining off and on the whole week. All morning, I tried to think of how to get away from the house. Can you believe my old man wouldn't let me go camping with Billy and his dad? "There's gonna be a big storm up there this weekend," he told me.

" Yea, right. Do you see a drop of rain?"

"You went to the movies, yesterday!" He told me when I asked for the five bucks.

"So. There's only one movie in the world?" Oh, big deal, he'll drop me down by the river on his way to town.

"Now, be waiting here at three thirty." he told me. I can't wait to get my license...

When I go through the gate at the start of the dirt road, there's a fresh smell from the damp earth, and the new green growth. Sunshine, blue sky, wind, shadows, and big white clouds are there to greet me. My feet press into the soft damp earth. I can't believe how much the vegetation has grown since I was down here last time before the rains started. To my left there's this big open field with tons of bushy green plants, to my right the freeway. As I start down hill, the trees begin, lot of oaks and some smaller trees and then, the blackberry bushes. There are these other bushes too with tiny pink flowers.

It's really tight going under the freeway. First of all there's the shadows, the sound of the traffic over your head. And, then, it gets darker. I have to admit, it's a little scary. There's all this graffiti. Some guys from the city must come in. And, they are really good. There are a couple paintings down here like the ones I saw at the art museum in San Francisco last winter. I've never run into any of the painters. And they always clean up after themselves, too. You

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