Laying the Edges

I was delightfully tired; I’d paddled at least ten miles and had several more to go before finishing the run. I decided to take a break and pulled ashore on the inside of a big bend in the river. There the shore was inviting; an alluvial plane of assorted cobbles and small boulders.

I stepped out of my kayak and pulled it ashore. I stretched and shook out my cramped legs. I grabbed my waterbottle and fished out a small, gorp-filled drybag from underneath the floatbag. I stood surveying the scene and thought: it just doesn’t get any better than this. I was walking toward a large boulder with an inviting back when something caught my eye: a banded stone on the rock-strewn shoreline; a talisman accorded by the very earth. I picked up the smooth, oval stone and marveled at its bold Rorschach bands that seemed to tell of river waves and mountain ranges. As I palmed the smooth cobble, I thought: If only you could speak, what a story of water, gravity, and time you would tell. And, if you did somehow speak, could I even begin to fathom your fantastic chronicle of the dimension of time known only to the mountain and river?

I placed the stone on top of a flat rock nearby then sat down upon the smooth boulder. I leaned back into the boulder’s natural cradle; the sunrays warmed my face... a gentle breeze stirred... the waterchatter at the river’s edge was mesmerizing....

“Clickity-click... clunk.” The stone toppled unaccountably from its perch and came to rest before me. Then happened the strangest thing: dreamy words filled my mind:

“Oh, yes. It has been a fantastic journey thus far and you are correct in assuming that all of this is unfathomable to you. Certainly, you can define and quantify it with your science, but you will never fully understand or grasp it at all. It’s just too vast--on too grand a scale for the ingrained immediacy that is... you. But, if you have a moment--and I must laugh at the notion of your moment--I’ll tell you of a most incredible sojourn:

It all began long, long, ago... I was born of an old seabed and over time cast vast and deep. For a long time I knew only darkness--to you a darkness of a most inconceivable kind--then suddenly something stirred from underneath, and upward I soared! --I’m sorry, suddenly and soared would not be the proper words to use. I keep forgetting; certain terms are quite different for you....

In time, ice, rain, sleet, snow, and wind removed the heavy veil of darkness and I stood as part of a majestic upheaval that towered over the landscape. But even this station of eminence was not to be abiding. I eventually began a colluvial slide that carried me to the source reaches of the river. Here I became the keystone in a massive monolithic choke through which even the mad water had to slip passage. But even this station of solidarity succumbed to the epicfloods. Across time--a thousandfold millennia--the relentless and oft furious water tumbled even the greatest of us downward... ever downward... our jagged masses chipping and abrading in the process. In time, the river, in its infinite attack of attrition, rendered us mere cobbles and pebbles... smooth to the touch... one you might even pick up... and contemplate”

“Caw! Caw!” The raspy call of a crow overhead awakened me. I thought: Jeeze... what a crazy dream that was... a talking rock! I gathered my gear and walked back to my kayak. I looked out into the river and noticed a slick surf-wave just downstream. I donned my gear then shoved off and ferried out to the glassy curl of water. As I sidled into its trough I leaned forward and stroked faster, catching the wave on the fly. I sliced across its face then cut back to the center where I hung suspended, delighting in the natural parody of speed as the river raced by. What a nice, smooth wave, I thought. Perfect! I peered into the clear water just off my bow and could see the bedrock that formed the wave. It jutted a sloping fin over which the current raced and I skittered upon its mercurial mirror. Then movement caught my eye: small, smooth stones, levitated in the crystal water, whirled and swirled in the vortices behind the bedrock fin. It was as if I had discovered a small solar system... no... this was chaotic. It was more a kinetic dance where the river held lead and twirled the pebbles in a strange minuet.

It was getting late so I peeled off the wave and headed downstream. As I paddled the remaining few miles to the takeout, I thought about my past quarter century of paddling. I thought of the exciting times--boy, there had been plenty of those! I thought of the friendships I had made along the way--those special, unconditional friendships that seem to naturally spawn whenever kindred spirits gather. But most of all I thought of this constant called the river and what it meant to me. I realized that whenever my life gets difficult... jagged... edgy... I always turn to the river, for it lays the edges... smooths things out... just like it does to the stone.

Man time is one thing and geological time is quite another, but to the river it makes little difference... for it has all the time in the world.

Return to previous page