WATER NAMES

Rivers, creeks, brooks, rills. I love the sound of these words, the sweet and magical way they roll off the tongue; the music they make when spoken aloud. In them I hear the essence of life, bubbly and light, cool, refreshing, purling over riffles, quiet in pools and eddies, soft and sibilant against sandy bars. Bold words with power to stir feelings, invoke moods. I often whisper them as a prayer and feel better. They are reaffirming words, offering beginning and end, source and destination, purpose and hope. Rivers, creeks, brooks, rills. Moving waters free from birth, possessed of eternal restlessness, they are shaped by their passage, gaining strength as they travel, continuing to seek what lies beyond, unwilling to give up the journey. What could they teach us about being true and steadfast if only we would listen? Sometimes I say their names —Stillwater, Scioto, Miami— and ache with loneliness afterwards, because they are not mere places, but flow through my soul, and it has been too long between visits.

FIRST REAL SNOW

Saturday was a day of overcast skies and almost constant flurries. Sometimes the flurries swirled and thickened to the point of trying to make you think they were serious…maybe even the leading edge of a blizzard. 

But mostly these were just a weather version of wannabe intimations.  

By the time dusk rolled around, however, we did have upwards of an inch on the ground—our first real snow cover of the season. 

And a pretty sight it was! 

December needs a mantel of snow to set the spirit right. Sunday was bright and gleaming—still just as cold, with ice crystals wafting in the air and sparkling like diamond dust. Birds crowded about the seed and suet feeders and the cracked corn scattered on the ground. In midafternoon, I heard—then saw—a white-throated sparrow, the first hereabouts for a while. 

Late in the day, as the sun was beginning to set, I snapped a shot of new ice which had formed on the river’s opposite bank. I liked the contrast and the reflected colors, subtle though they are, caused by the prismatic effect of the ice crystals and the water's rippling current. Water is unique in that we know it in three forms—liquid, solid, (ice), and gaseous (steam, mist or vapor). In winter, there are occasions when we can see all three at once. 

I’m still on the lookout for that particular shot. But I’m happy to see our first, ground-sticking snow.