JOY ALONG THE WAY: VISIT DOWN BY THE RIVERSIDE

Having checked out the local creek banks, I went down to the triple double-lettered (I've been watching basketball -- triple doubles, etc.) river to see what flotsam and jetsam might be riding the waves. Took my binoculars, the more readily to see if any turtles, birds or frogs were on a free cruise to the Gulf, or at least, Thebes.

Far out in the middle of the river I "saw" the Loch Ness Monster. Three humps and a head! Nearer the shore was the big curved menacing thing that grows on the back of a killer whale. Don't know its name. Dorsal fin? A bird was riding on it! Resting its wings, no doubt, on a flight to the Louisiana cane fields.

There were three just plain logs going by. I couldn't make anything else of them. Maybe they were tugged loose from an upper bank or, alas, the floor boards of some Huckleberry Finn raft. One seemed to be carrying a turtle but it might have been where a limb had been cut off. Mundane.

All were hurrying downstream as if to get out of the way of a towboat and its front floating cargo coming down river. It looked so far away, coming out of mist, but began to loom larger and larger. By the time the Loch Ness Monster and killer whale had passed beneath the bridge, it was right there opposite me. I saw no human aboard but knew there must be at least one, carefully guiding, for it seemed as if the whole shebang was going to smack right into one of the bridge supports, but ere it got there it began bearing to the right and missed it aplenty.

Towboats and cargo move so quietly. Only the splash of the rear paddle wheel makes a noise, and then the waves start rippling in toward the shore. Wondered if there were any little river creatures that like to "surf" into shore on them, so went down to the water's edge to see. All that came in were little sticks and twigs and someone's cane fishing pole. I picked the pole out of the water and laid it aside, thinking someone who needed a fishing pole might come by and pick up this gift from the river.

I like the sound of the incoming water as it reaches the shoreline. The water stops abruptly and, seemingly startled, laps backward, as if to excuse itself for getting out of bounds.

Mingled with the gentle lop, lop of the water, at this moment, came the faint sound of a train whistle, coming up from the southland. Even before I heard the engine, I saw the big headlight coming my way, down at the end of the floodwall. Do trains always have their headlight on, even in sunny daylight? I've forgotten. As many oncoming trains I've seen, gotten off the tracks to wait for them to pass, I've forgotten about that light. Ah, well, it's the only thing I've forgotten!!

Soon the train came racketing by, cutting me off from the city. Commerce going north. Commerce going south. America, still seemed on the move, young and healthy. I felt good with the wind blowing my hair, the sun steadily rising, the waterfront all to myself, no cruise missiles flying overhead, only the white tracks of some unheard jet plane.

I noted that the ornamental trees on the city side of the wall have grown tall enough that from the river side they appear to be a little hedge growing up out of the concrete wall, softening the stark flat top. Serendipity.

Having had my "river fix," which I require fairly often, I journeyed westward to home, feeling fortunate to live in this old town that has The River passing by.

REJOICE!

~Jean Bell Mosley is an author and longtime columnist for the Southeast Missourian.