In 1970 the Platt River flooded.

After the water receded, the river reclaimed its one hundred year old bed, returned to its past, settled in, once again moving forward.

The river of life is, in equal parts, identical.

We returned to our past, our beds our roots.

Memories merge together in a swiftly moving current.

Standing on the banks, we watch familiar pieces of life drift by. Some soaked in the tears of regret, others log-jammed and trapped, and still others tumbling along pulling us downstream, in the hopes of capturing the essence of the moment in which they made an unforgettable mark on our heart.

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