Riverside memorial

Someone hiked through mud and over large piles of flood debris to get to a spot on the river to plant a modest memorial to someone they cared about. It was impossible to miss against the gray-brown tableau of the recently concluded winter. Someone inserted the metal stems of fake sunflowers into one of thousands of logs that had been stacked against the east river bank in a storm. And there was a small wooden heart with Hallmark words of remembrance. I’ve seen many memorials — mostly on lampposts or sign posts in Baltimore neighborhoods and along suburban roads and highways — but never one by a river. I thought for a fleeting moment that someone might have drowned near this spot, but it seemed unlikely, given the size of the river, and, anyway, I’d rather not think about that. I’d rather think it was someone who was loved, someone who loved this place, someone who might have fished for trout along this river or just enjoyed the view to the west — all meadows and mountains and wild flowers in spring.