The river takes away the story, while the ship stomps on its way in exhaustion. The surface of the waters simultaneously allows a glance into the past, down the river, and a peek into the future, up the river. For the waters that are yet to arrive tell stories of days that haven’t taken place so far. Silently, the waves with their gurgling sound continuously wash away the presence in one direction, making it part of a wet, natural archive of the past. Well, some things are immutable.