3.3? No Matter

The Conestoga River is on the upper range of low at 3.3 feet. This despite a few rain events in the last couple of weeks. Maybe that’s what it takes to keep the river from the 2.7-2.9 range we experienced last summer, but it would be awesome to hit 3.9.

It’s not as if low water has a negative effect on one’s overall experience, and while the river has never been so low that I couldn’t go out, it’s nice to have the push. That and the fact that rock exposure in the “rapids” becomes less of a factor make higher numbers welcome.

We have seen levels as high as 21 feet at the house and at that point trees, benches, and all sorts are carried by what becomes a chocolate milk-like stew. Twenty-one feet will allow for paddles over the lawns where we live, but things are a bit too swirly at that point. There is just too much in the water to really want to go out. 

When things do calm down a bit, it’s go time! Not only is the water extremely fast, but when the water is super high, one is afforded a totally different view from the water. It’s like the difference between driving a car and being in the cab of a semi for the difference in perspective. From there you can see over the bank, spy the path, and see things you normally can’t.

But until a major rain arrives, I’ll just keep it steady at 3.3. There, higher or lower - no matter. Paddle again. Paddle better. 

See you on the river!

The river at an upswing.

Take a Photo, Yo!

Can’t tell you how many times I have taken what turns out to basically be the same Conestoga River photo. Most of these feature my paddle-partner Jeff.

I’ll be coming around a bend, or the light will be something amazing, or it’s just Jeff on the water, and I’ll pause and snap a pic. Aside from checking out the day’s collection to post something on the Instagram account, I don’t ever really look at them beyond the day or even delete anything. Suppose that’s why Google keeps telling me I’m almost out of memory. Thanks, Google. 

All one needs to do to see that I take the same photos all of the time is look at conestogia on Instagram. 

I’d wager that there are numerous photos of the stretch to Rocky Springs, tons of the bend right there at the old amusement park, a bunch with the haunted-house sycamore in the distance, and the quarry stretch, and the rapids stretch and a few of the rapids/house at the end. You either get Jeff in the photo or you don’t; the only options really. 

But… as is true for photos in general, they don’t really capture what is happening on the river. They are static - static representations of a dynamic entity. The photos are flat while the river is alive.

Maybe that’s why they mostly just sit there. They can stand as a reminder of what was experienced, but for all of the time spent collecting them, my photos of the river lie dormant and are ineffective in eliciting the feelings or experiences that inspired me to take them in the first place. 

Having said all that, how about a photo?

The rapids and house. No Jeff.

Biophelia and freedom

Since becoming aware of OA Wilson’s biophilia hypothesis, a theory that holds that humans are not only drawn to natural spaces, but that they benefit from time communing with nature, I have sometimes wondered where exactly the power in these spaces lies. 

Certainly, some of this is in the inherent power and wonder and beauty of such spaces. To see something beautiful or novel is always an awesome thing and this is true if the beauty or novelty is part of the natural world or part of the world constructed by humans.

Additionally, however, some of the power of natural spaces can be found in the fact that nature offers a respite from the constructed world; a respite from the stories that make up so much of human society. 

The natural world is primary. The natural world and the behaviors of the living things found within it are concerned with basic needs: food, shelter, reproduction, etc. This just isn’t true for the vast majority of the world in which we live. The concerns are trivial, the behaviors are inconsequential and so much is based on the whims and fancy of humans. 

On the river there are a myriad of different ways that humans have affected the landscape, but what is happening out there is free from all of the mess that exists beyond its banks. Yes, time in natural spaces can provide manna for a soul or mind or body, but perhaps the break from all of the mess is where the real power lies. 

The Mysterium Tremendum Awaits