A dense fog settled over the Hudson River on a wintry February morning. Although Cold Spring was deserted and the loneliness was overbearing, I found solace in the solitude which the weather brought. The river was my companion. Humanity longs to be near her, whether for an hour, a day or the rest of their lives. She is a source of nourishment for the soul, even though her role as a provider of sustenance has been greatly diminished. There is comfort in the loneliness, for the river speaks.
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