Those Open Skies Reflected In The Water Days

I’m your typical white suburbanite in poor minority, I suppose Hispanic, Spanish-speaking territory. I’m at a nice lake in an idyll land far from the suburban streets. I bungle around with my possessions before getting into the water.

Then, its time for children to go home. There is a PBS/hippie peace core vibe among the adults minding the children. I can tell they have fun and are fulfilled, engaged with their lives; it must feel like an adventure to them. They are filming for a documentary for funds. The bus begins to cross a very wide river — there is no bridge. The bus has no roof. They were planning on the river only so deep, I suppose a foot deep, but they hit a deep spot and lost a bus to the river.