The car radio is blasting 2010s pop; the world is dim through your sunglasses.
Sunlight filters through the hanging branches and winks on the cresting water. In High Water and Jim's Aqualand, a noon sun shines down on a perfect summer day- but if a drunken, sun-soaked adolescence is central to the American experience, then elemental violence is even more so; and as the sun lowers in the west, painting the world in shades of red- the river begins to look like blood.