“Who looks upon a river in a meditative hour, and is not
reminded of the flux of all things? Throw a stone into the stream, and the
circles that propagate themselves are the beautiful type of all influence”
Rivers remind me of more than just the inconsistency of this
world. They remind me of the power, swiftness, direction, and perpetuity of
them.
Rivers are greedy things. They regard nothing besides the slope of the
land, eating up lose dirt, devouring boulders, and rounding off rough edges on
all types of stones. Though their courses change constantly, they always find
the path of least resistance for themselves, never considering the path of
least damage for “all things”. A river, like life, does not consider all
things. Yet stones plunked into streams create ripples you can watch to the
bank.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e2J-0EtsCpo
ReplyDeleteI love reading this coupled with your post from a week ago about throwing stones in the brook; the last sentence harkens back to it in a neat way. This week's post reads to me like a reflection on what it was like to throw stones aimlessly and seemingly hurt no one. Were you really harmless when you did that? Throwing the stones into the river gave you relief for the moment, and the freedom was beautiful. But now, once time has passed since that event, you realize the ugly cycle of how humans alter rivers with our throws that make a splash, and rivers alter stones with their "greedy" force. Comparing the way life goes on unapologetically and the ways we take advantage of having so many choices to the behavior of a river is such a poetic way to express the guilt you feel for being a part of such a destructive species.
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