It was two years prior when an old buck experiencing dementia wandered the shoreline of the Columbia River. His antlers were still attached on this late winter day, and the river was not yet rushing with spring runoff and snow melt. The buck found his final resting place, tucked up near the base of a cottonwood tree. After dying, while he provided meals for smaller animals and birds around him, his bones and antlers seemed to cement in place, as if to mark the spot. When that cottonwood slid into the river during the next year’s storm, his bony remains with antlers somehow still attached, were projected as if a flag, or perhaps, a disguised, counterfeit snag. And thus, it was … the bottle was partially hidden, stuck in a stag of some fallen cottonwood branches…

Note: If you have already finished Beyond the Ripples, and this makes no sense to you…congratulations! You read through my first page typo and can simply ignore this back story. If you haven’t yet read Beyond the Ripples, and this makes no sense to you….congratulations! You should now track down a copy to find out what it is all about. Learn more about this Oregon-based novel and how to get a copy.

Perhaps I have found my calling: The Art of Managing Bloopers. Would you like to read more about errors published in a book? Try these:

• An apology to geologists everywhere (November 22, 2017)
• Apology 2: to the Grande Ronde River (September 7, 2018)

Learn more about my 2017 memoir, My Music Man.