And you can, if you concentrate, even look out at the peaceful far bank where you try to raise your arms. Can you breathe here? Here where the force is the greatest and only the strength of your neck holds the river out of your face. The strong water dashes down beside you and you feel it along your calves and thighs rising roughly backup, up to the roiling surface, full of bubbles that slide up your skin or break on you at full speed.
The hard water pelts your skull, bangs in bits on your shoulders and arms. You leave the sleeping shore deliberately you shed your dusty clothes, pick your barefoot way over the high, slippery rocks, hold your breath, choose your footing, and step into the waterfall.
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