at the water's edge

What is it about water? Water is a place. It's a place that stands still, rushes by, undulates, dissipates, grows. It can be deathly quiet and turbulently active. We want to watch it, reflect on it, be in it. We love it and we fear it. But why?

A river runs through my town. Trails line its banks, and on any day of the year, people stroll, walk, jog, bike, or sit along its sides. I don't think I would have moved to Missoula, Montana if water wasn't part of the place. I've always lived on one coast or the other, and never desired to live in an inland state. But here I am. I both "sent" and "found" myself here, near the Clark Fork River, less than two years ago.

The Missoula valley, itself, was once a prehistoric glacial lake. I'm living in the rocky bottom. As I dig for stones to line my garden path, that lake sinks into me. When snow dusts the surrounding hills, which support the Northern Rockies behind them, I can see the various levels of that ancient lake, as the light snow settles into the hilly striations. That history sinks into me. Present and past become simultaneous during those moments of thought. The ancient water envelopes me on my dry plot of land. This comforts and connects me to this place.

Missoula also has the Bitterroot, the Blackfoot, the Rattlesnake, and Rock Creek running through or around it, some of the best spots for fly fishing in the country (or so I'm told). I could learn more about this place through its rivers. I'm not yet as connected as I'd like to be.

In the meantime, I see water everyday, whether I'm walking through town or along the shallow and narrow canal two blocks from my house. And I'm most fascinated by the canal because I know it will refresh me, not overtake me. My mother recently reminded me how my siblings and I loved it when our grassy backyard would turn into a pond during one of the rare Los Angeles downpours. That pond was all ours for the taking. It was as marvelous as the canal. Both are quiet enough to allow me time to swallow them up. They are not going to sweep by or over my thoughts too quickly.

Water or lack of it so clearly defines a place. But why is water so crucial to that definition?