The other day I realized I still had an ongoing reason to travel near the river/oaks twice a month. Once a new year begins part of my ongoing routine involves picking up our winter bread shares from a local baker. I thought I picked it up (from the designated local health food/general store) on Tuesdays but apparently I was wrong. I'll be maintaining the same mid-week schedule until late Spring. Today I was pleasantly surprised to admire a new mural just outside the store. After learning I was there a day too soon I proceeded to the river.
Upon arrival I found a man quasi-napping in his car just to the right of the trees. So I pulled in closer to the road hoping he'd be gone by the time I was heading back to my car. [he was not.] Headed along fenced pavement across the bridge in order to document the western river view. This morning there was more of an icy rim at the bank edges but the river itself was moving with a lot more momentum and vigor than I've seen in several weeks.
If you look closely you'll see that a foot or more of previously iced snowfall is now below the waterline. The wind was mild yet brisk in its velocity. Traffic was very scarce. I took my time crossing the road and walking down the boat launch on the other side of the bridge.
Ducks scattered from both water and banks at my approach. The water moving east was really moving. I saw evidence of a tussle between a female mallard and something that pulled a lot of feathers. The scene lacked any hint of carnage. I picked up a joined trio of feathers and released them into the air while wishing the duck safe passage. Thought about what it would mean to my weekday structure and its points of focus if I were to officially make Wednesday a follow-the-water day. It could mean so many things beyond just visiting various spots in order to document them. The creek our little stream feeds into can be visited on foot provided there's not too much plowing build up and ice usurping the main road's shoulder. I could, with time, become adept at a larger walking loop that most likely has unknown-to-me water ways and small ponds.
In the days since my last River post I have moved from a sense of emotional cataclysm to one of certainty and redoubled focus on what it means for me to achieve and maintain good inner and outer balance. I know any sort of healing from ruptured trust is inherently a form of grieving. And this is never a linear trajectory. I don't intend to write about that moment of my life in this space again but I know the reverb factor will inform what I do or don't write in any given post.
As I'm sitting here typing on my laptop I can only see the lower portion of the river flowing east in the image above. It's so obviously moving. Although water can be parsed down to molecules it's really far more continuous in its nature. Finite only when actively manipulated and deliberately contained somehow. I look at all the water around me and think about areas of this country/planet where people have their daily water piped-in for a staggering number of miles. And whoever has the political clout/capital to put on the line has the lion's share of water. Have seen, heard and read about it time after time. Something so basic contained and withheld by so much greed.
Back in early '02 I thought about water manipulated into traveling great distance to fulfill a basic human need quite a lot. My family was traveling through northern Italy. During certain days of our two week road trip there we would often cross paths with vast panoramas dominated by monolithic sections of ancient Roman aqueducts. I wondered how somebody had known where to start figuring out such a system in the first place - and how many people it had taken to prop-up and devote their lives to the person who had the idea and then to whomever carried it to enough fruition to be worth all the idea/engineering time.
Maybe this sort of far from magical feat has played a part in why we as a species are so sure we're the most intelligent life form on the planet. Maybe?