As for the river, it just kept moving, as river do–as rivers do. Under the logs, the body of the young Canadian moved with the river, which jostled him to and fro–to and fro. If, at this moment in time Twisted River also appeared restless, even impatient, maybe the river itself wanted the boy’s body to move on, too, move on, too.

John Irving – Last Night in Twisted River

Picture of Canyon Sainte-Anne, Québec ©Bobby Seal