[ Loiosh, an orange tabby wearing a green harness, is seen from above, standing on a couple of boulders; he’s sniffing at a clump of mostly-brown grass to his left. Beyond him are the dark, turbid waters of the Arkansas River. ]
I was … pretty okay with this.
[ Loiosh’s hindpaws are still on the same rock, but he’s stretched his front half out, nearly over the water, forepaws on another rock, to try to reach a particular blade of grass. His head is tucked under a tuft of grass, and he’s straddling his leash, which runs directly upwards toward the camera. ]
I WAS MUCH LESS OKAY WITH THIS PLEASE DO NOT FALL INTO THE RIVER
IT DOES THIS
[ A view across the river. The riverbed has been built up between narrowed banks so that a standing wave rushes over an arch in the bed, then crashes down into breaking seafoam. ]
I’d spent half the ride up on the phone with my mom, & we were talking about the surfing wave in the Arkansas in Salida; I’d planned to take pictures of it on my last trip, but then there was accidentally the fiber festival, & I plain forgot.
[ A closer view of the upper part of the standing wave — the surface of the river is smoothly rippled as it runs down into the turbulent foam beneath. ]
There wasn’t anyone on it that day — there might’ve been, earlier, when there was some sun on it, but even in a wetsuit, there’s limits.
[ A closer view of the surf below the standing wave. The water flows under the the leading edge of the foam, which is whitest and wildest at that boundary, then slowly calms over the next twenty or thirty feet until it’s back to the usual smooth flow of the river. ]
I could watch people surfing there for hours — far longer than Loiosh has the patience for. Eventually he wants to go find some grass. Or, in this case, some more grass, ideally some that wouldn’t get him grumbled at for trying to fall in the river.
