I am part of a feasibility study group for a greenway connection between the main village centers in our town. As part of my work on that committee, I traveled down river – stopping every 1/4 mile to see what the conditions of the river and surrounding areas – woodlands and banks are like with a hydrologic and ecological lens. It was a great way to get outside on a beautiful overcast day (perfect for taking pictures) and see portions of the river I have never been to.
Who knew that my explorations would take me back to my childhood – where I spent a large portion of my free time along the banks of the Potomac river – walking, sitting, painting, swimming and writing. The smell of the rushing water mingled with the earth.Traces of water courses etched their ways through the mutable banks and landscape. Nests of material seemingly placed with meticulous intention illustrated where eddies had swirled flotsam and receded. And, an eagle circled overhead. The magic was there.
Flood plains hold magic and danger. They are rich with the deposits from upstream, the accumulated nutrients of the watershed above. With those nutrients come times when the accumulated waters wash down and inundate the land with rushing, powerful waters that shotgun through channels and reshape the landscape across scales – a wonderful metaphor. While I knew that I was safe along the banks today, there is something chilling to me about thinking of the ominous force of waters rushing down the valleys of the surrounding hills, through the channelized portions of town and churning through the quiet, dry area I was standing. The traces left by that force are at once awe-inspiring and softly poetic.
