Walking by the river on a day in the fall, the river was flat. Like a winding mirror through the hills and valleys, it reflected back the colors of the trees along its path. “Hard to believe,” thought Maggie, “That we have had storm after storm and this is the first quiet day in weeks.”
You could tell there’d been recent storms if you looked. Many parts of the river were blocked by tree limbs. Maggie hoped someone would come and clear the waterway. Eventually, all the fallen limbs and leaves would choke the river and no one would be able to use it, though the ducks seemed happy enough.
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