A Drawback of Daydreams

By Diana Hooley

I like to hike Chase’s hill above his house and the Snake River, near my place outside Hammett. The road is a steady incline, cut at an angle across the face of the rim rock, so the lumbering spud trucks and hay swathers have a gradual pull as they grind their way to the top. On an autumn day, like most days, I was lost in thought. I was thinking about canning tomatoes and how I should have planted more last spring. Sauces and soups taste so much better with home-canned tomatoes.

Off to my left, I heard a splash in the river and thought I’d dislodged some rocks by walking too close to the water’s edge. But when I looked past the rabbit brush and reeds onto the river, I saw two sets of long ears and almond-shaped eyes bobbing along in the current, heading toward the island. Evidently, the deer had come out for a swim.