The fire’s burning down beside us. My socks dry in its fading heat. A south wind keeps the smoke from our eyes. Ten feet away waves from a passing towboat are crashing against the soft sandy cliffs. Dinner digests. We put 33 miles behind us today. We traveled the rising river with ducks on driftwood. Above us white pelicans and cormorants flew south. Now stars fill the sky. The wind has just turned cold and my fingers remember this morning’s frosty air. I hope things start to warm up soon.