Water. In drought, we pray for it.
In floods, we fear it.
And when the soul needs refreshing – we seek it.
The ocean – in its vastness – offers perspective about our small place and insignificant worries in the scheme of life.
A river is about discovery; something new lies around every bend.
“A river does not just happen; it has a beginning and an end. Its story is written in rich earth, in ice, and in water-carved stone, and its story as the lifeblood of the land is filled with colour, music and thunder.” ~ Andy Russell, The Life of a River
Like life, a river is full of surprises; things you can’t see until you come upon them. From a vignette –
to the tiniest detail.
“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. “— (Ralph Waldo Emerson, Nature)
We took the dogs and loaded up the car for a long weekend at Russian River – not far from Bodega Bay in California.
A tiny cottage with a gigantic lawn on the river’s edge.
The 110 mile river flows through nine counties, joined by others on its route to the Pacific Ocean. Originally known among the Southern Pomo as Ashokawna “east water place” or “water to the east”, and as Bidapte, “big river,” it takes its current name from Russian Ivan Kuskov who explored the river in the early 19th century. Russian people from Sitka, Alaska settled in the coastal area founding Fort Ross in 1811 and erected buildings at Bodega Bay. The river and its surrounding towns have managed to survive floods, fires, the 1906 earthquake, and other disasters – leaving small but devoted communities, and carrying many stories.
Last year, this river was but a trickle after five years of drought. With the winter rains, it flooded the town of Guerneville. In May, it still runs fast and deep; too fast to send the doggies in – but they had more than enough adventures.
A mystic morning.
A hike through an old redwood grove.
An afternoon at the beach.
A nap on the grass.
“There’s a river somewhere that flows through the lives of everyone.” ~ Roberta Flack