記憶中唯一的一次泛舟經驗是在當消基會的義工時，隨會裡的員工旅遊到花蓮瑞穗的秀姑巒溪。當天天氣陰雨連綿，好像還有颱風警報，因此也不怎麼盡興。不過，總是救生衣、護盔也都穿戴得有麼有樣，有一些感覺了。移民到加拿大之後，才知道像秀姑巒溪這種水上活動場所，在這個千山萬水、瑞雪豐盈的國度裡，只是小得不能再小的case。心中那顆躍躍欲泛的感覺又慢慢浮現。只是，台灣/加拿大來來去去，一直沒機會下水。去年，去上這裡的高中英文課，老師Yvone要我們交互運用英文寫作裡的暗喻法(metaphor)、頭韻法(alliteration), 等等技巧寫一篇descriptive essay。我找了一幅泛舟的照片，發揮了想像力，寫就這一章。

    Rafting on a raging river is like a chef stirring boiling soup with a big spoon except that we are surrounded by the soup, and the boiling soup is actually icy cold, crystal clear, insipid and thin water.

The water molecules, released from ten-thousand-year-old glaciers and pouring into the precipitous, rocky river, tremble and panic in the spiraling, bubbling eddies like swarms of bees rushing out of and swirling around their fallen nests. The turbulent, chilly eddy currents dash at the boat, jump upon my face, dilute the showering sweat and transfer the odorous, warm saltiness into freezing, honey-like sweetness as it flows down my cheeks, floods into my mouth, and flushes my thirsty tongue. Our boat stumbles among the monstrous, ferocious rocks in the roaring river like a drunken spider limping with lame legs toward its destination. My arms feel as taut as an overstretched rubber band, and my head is filled with the loneliness of a detached spaceman drifting in the desolate, expansive darkness of outer space.

All of a sudden, my numb arms feel no pain at rowing, the paddle in my hands turns as airy as a plume, and the revolving trees around us freeze at ten meters away. The people on the river bank look at us with wide-open mouths, so do we at each other of us on the boat. We, together with our boat, become a statue frozen on a giant rock that emerges out of the middle of the river. The violent, powerful water has pushed us up to the top of the rock.