The river here swirled without violence and he struck out for the shore, dragging himself from the water with the last of his strength.

As the river swirled and pushed against him, sending sheets of water shooting up and over his head, he realized what had happened.

The river swirled in front of us, grey and cold.

A sweet river of emotions swirled around them, their essences blending into a rapid rush.

She had just enough time to fill her lungs and clamp her mouth shut before the river swirled over her.

Thirty feet below, the river swirled slowly.

A meter or so out from the base of the cliff the river swirled, thick with brown silt.

That late afternoon the river swirled as rough as a Jacuzzi turned on high.

At Their feet the river swirled and chucked.

The river, cold as lunar ice, swirled past me like a wasted life.