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Here, at the bend in the Green River, the picnic tables sit inches above the rising waterline. The river is gorged with rain, hungrily bursting its banks. Trees that once clung to the fresh earth now seem planted in the swift current. Swallows flit in and out of a thicket of blackberry bushes, building a nest for the heirs to their island realm. It is theirs to claim as it seems humanity has all but deserted this stretch of the riverside. No one has come to collect the garbage; the can only holds a pair of tan jeans anyway.
Above the river, paying no mind to the river, office buildings stand high and immovable, blocking the view. The river rises slowly day by day. It may swallow the buildings when they’re not looking. No one will think to look for them in the churning water under the thorns of the blackberry bush.
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Jonny Eberle is a writer in Tacoma, WA who ponders the motivations of rivers. He also tweets a fair bit.