Though it’s been more than four decades, I still remember the jarring contrast. A broiling sun bore down on my skinny shoulders as creek water that felt as if drained from a glacier caressed my sun-kissed 8-year-old legs. While water and air felt like polar opposites, a visual distinction was imperceptible. The pure little torrent running over ancient stones was so clear that were it not for the riffles I couldn’t tell you where one elemental ended and the other began.
Neosho
by Johnny Carrol Sain - Wednesday, Aug 26th, 2026





