Dry Ground

The canal culvert narrows into an arched brick vault just above the weir's splash zone. I hauled myself onto an old iron drainage pipe to clear the damp river silt. Bracing my back against the curve of the masonry, I notched my bow across two exposed rebar struts to keep the string elevated and dry. Below, the dark water churns over the spillway, muffling any surface noise from the city above. I took inventory of my quiver and wedged a flat piece of river slate beneath my boots for a dry footing. Elevated, concealed, and out of the draft. The tributary route resumes at first light.