The narrow ford crossing the creek was dry outbound; on return 40 minutes later, bubbling water like champagne covering. There had been no rain; the scene seemed dubious, possibly unreal. In either case the white, innocent seagull in the midst ought be avoided. Here then man & bicycle briefly aloft, into the drink, both instantly, completely submerged. Therefore, a new phone number, and in order to milk a little fondness, the contacts gradually informed. Blue sky above, rushing water filtering the sight; possibly a momentary black-out between times. Filmic sequences of such frame-by-frame vividness deserved a large audience sitting transfixed in their seats.
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