As it washed over a stone, the necklace broke. The pieces slid round the stone. The ends of the braided chain swept outward around the curve of the rock and over the next cobble. I reached for it, and, breaking the surface of the water, other necklaces broke, the delicate strands scattered.
They were only shadows. I sat back on a boulder at the side the Lochsa River. In this reach, the channel expanded, and the water fanned outward from a smooth surfaced central vein toward broader margins. The water moving over shallow cobbles was braided into surface rivulets. These textured braids made shadows of round baubles on chains against the stones. As the water fanned, the baubled chains curved and, where the water eddied as the flow twisted and reflected near shore, the chains made rings, necklaces.
The strings broke over a near white stone. I watched the pieces scatter and circle around then reform new necklaces, ends joined, black shadow baubles small and large in place. A back clasp closed just as I stood, thinking that I might reach again, while the black jewel string washed away.