THE SOUL OF
A RIVER
A few years
ago I invested in the 1990’s Cousteau River Journeys DVD’s. Four of the
episodes followed the Danube from headwaters to the Black
Sea , with emphasis on the environmental degradation along the
river in the former Soviet states. Chemical plants that dumped untreated waste
into the river. The dangers of aging nuclear plants that weren’t that well
built in the first place. Run off from contaminated ground water along with gas
leakage into the atmosphere. Local economies based on fishing and farming were
stressed out by the pollution.
The diversion of the river into man made channels to improve navigation, while destroying local economies based on the wetlands and marshes.
So, where is the soul of a river? Is it just the river? Or does the river and its soul stretch beyond the channel and the meandering blue line on a map.
The diversion of the river into man made channels to improve navigation, while destroying local economies based on the wetlands and marshes.
So, where is the soul of a river? Is it just the river? Or does the river and its soul stretch beyond the channel and the meandering blue line on a map.
The river is
the ocean that gives up its moisture to the rains and snows.
The river is
winter ice and summer sun.
The river is
snow, rain and hail.
The river is
the tiny veins and capillaries of water that stretch beyond the banks and below
the river bed. Searching, seeking,
seeping into the deep rocks and the deep roots of the mountains. Finally finding
the way to new streams and new tree roots. Coming into the sun again, pulled
into the sky a thousand miles from where the rain last fell.
The river is
the mountains, home to the springs a rivulets that join to form a torrent.
The river is
the animals that depend on it for water and forage, the trees that shade the
banks and shelter the birds.
The river is the disappearing marshes and the migratory birds that nested in the reeds.
The river is the disappearing marshes and the migratory birds that nested in the reeds.
The canals
are the river and so are the drying wetlands that used to hold back the floods.
The dams we
build are the river and so are the fish blocked from their native spawning
grounds.
The river is
the disappearing, sick and mutated fish and the villagers and fishermen who
depend on them not only for their livelihood, but for tonight’s dinner.
The river is
the untreated chemical waste that leaches into ground water. It’s the sewage
from overburdened, aging city systems.
The river is
the rain falling through air contaminated with radiation from nuclear plants
that couldn’t be built to withstand every possible risk.
The river is
us.
The last episode ends with a group of children including one of Cousteau’s grandchildren flying kites along the river bank to remind us that they will have to live in the world we are creating.
(Words fail me sometimes. I have the vision in my mind but can’t find the words to express what I see)
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