Fishing the Safe Way

To this day I can't explain why I am still alive.  Iand could see that the flood waters had eaten
should be dead.  My mother and I were visitingaway the bank a bit, weakening its stability.  I
my grandmother and uncle, during my summerhad been warned to be careful not to walk too
vacation.  I was about 10 years old .  They livedclose to the edge, since it could be unstable.   
in a very rural area.  The valley where they livedWhat I recall next is a bit like a series of
was quite narrow, running north to south.  Itsnapshots or flashes.  I sort of remember the
might have taken 5 minutes to drive from onebank below me suddenly breaking away.   I
side to the other and both sides of this valley,sensed that falling panicky feeling.  There was a
were heavily forested.  The western mountainmad grab for the creek bank.  I recall flashes of
side, very green and wet and the eastern side atrying to grab roots sticking out of the creek's
bit drier.   bank.  All these flashes happening in a blink of an
A creek snaked its way along the length of theeye.  And then click.  I was sleeping.  I was
valley.  It was fed by the melting snow and icedreaming.  That warm fuzzy sleep feeling you
from the nearby towering mountains.  In springget, when you are in the most comfortable bed
time the creek became a raging torrent ofand are only half awake.  I was suddenly
water,  several times its summer time width. surrounded by a pastel light green haze.  No
Very often it would flood the bottom of themore awareness of any thing else.  Just floating,
valley, where the fertile farm land was located. dreaming, and comfortable, in my own little green
Grandmother's farm was often flooded in springnirvana.   
time, if the weather suddenly became hot.  ThisThe next thing I remember was my mother
would cause rapid snow melt, feeding the creek,pulling me up the bank by the arm.  I was all
making it turn into a huge monstrous torrent ofwet, cold and muddy.  I have no real memory of
ever expanding water.  what was going on in the real world, outside me,
By summer time the creek settled down, to aduring my time in the fishing pool.  
fraction of its spring time size.  There was aFrom what my mother told me, I understand that
highway lane size, main current area, flanked byshe couldn't get to me.  She didn't know how to
side pools fed by streamlets.  These side poolsswim herself.  All she could do was yell to me to
had been dug by the spring flood waters.  A lotkick or tread water.  She also told me to raise
of the river bank was undermined by the samemy arm so she could pull me up the creek bank. 
water power, that had dredged the side pools.  I don't recall any of that.  It's all blank.  
It was a hot summer day.  My mother and I setI remember taking a nice hot bath later, to warm
out to go fishing at the creek.  We trekkedup.  The water in the tub was just fine.  Any
across a field, then through some brush, to gainthing deeper is not for me.  
access to the creek.  I was carrying a fishing rodThat event taught me a healthy respect for
and a can of worms, to be used as fishing bait. warnings about river banks, which could cave
There was a rough trail at the edge of the creek,in.   I have since gone fishing in a boat, but
leading towards where one of the fishing poolsnever by a creek again.
sparkled.  We walked near the edge of the bank