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November 8, 2013

Waders fishing debris out of the shallows, each cast of the net bringing with it a leaf, a branch, a tadpole, a cast-off plastic bag, a forgotten spoon. From up on the bridge, one can only wonder at their purpose, at whether the waders return home to empty sacks and deposit their findings on the floor of their kitchen, hoping that the river which once contained those treasures might spring up around it again, even here.

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