What is it about water that draws us to it? Obviously, there is our biological need, but I'm thinking beyond thirst and cellular replenishment. I've heard that fire and flowing water are mesmerizing to humans like few other phenomena. Think of how one stares into the dancing red and orange of a campfire or in a fireplace on a cold evening in midwinter. Remember the breathy sound of surf, the constant roar of a whitewater river, or even the arrhythmic patter of rainfall on a roof. Then there's the sight of water: foamy, white highlights on a blustery day, tranquil hues of blue, coffee rivers, black ponds. Ripples, waves, riffles, the motion of water, its (usually) fresh odor, and the variety of life it attracts; bodies of water supply a nearly inexhaustible supply of beauty and fascination.
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| My daughter at the Gulf of Mexico, Florida |
Water is
not only necessary to sustain life, but is used in healing rituals around the
world and has been since probably religion started. Think of baptism and its symbolic prototypes:
Noah and his ark, the Israelites crossing the muddy floor of a split Red Sea,
Naaman the Syrian general commanded to bathe seven times in the Jordan River in order to be healed of leprosy.
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| Little Traverse Bay, Petoskey, Michigan |
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| See, I can't stay out of it. Great Smoky Mountains National Park |
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Ice, snow,
hail, rain—water in its myriad forms draws our fear, anger, curiosity, and
joy. I feel the pull of water every time
I am near some natural body of it—swimming pools have never had the same effect
on me. Perhaps it is the pool’s
sterility or the chlorinated smell—I am compelled if not to jump in and swim in
a lake, pond, or stream, then at least to put my hands or sandaled feet in
it. In summer’s heat especially, the
liquid magnetism draws me ever near—even with a threat of leeches or creeping,
clawing crayfish, lurking pike with needle-like teeth, or hiding-in-the-muck
snapping turtles.
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| Swimming in the Midnight Hole, Big Creek, GSMNP |
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Prior to my
teenaged years, my family spent two glorious weeks at my maternal Grandparent’s
place on Manitoulin
Island. Most days I was found swimming in Honora Bay
shortly after breakfast, down by the “government dock.” I came out for a lunch break, again for
dinner, and then came out for good for the day at dusk. I’ve never developed immunity to that
particular siren’s call. I’ve swum in
all the Great Lakes, but for Ontario (I’ve
even been swimming in the middle of that junior Great Lake:
St. Clair). Ponds and rivers all over
both peninsulas of Michigan
have refreshed me. The Atlantic
Ocean has enveloped me as well, though sometimes it was just over
my feet or knees. From Nova
Scotia and Maine, New Hampshire’s tiny slice of beach front property, Cape Cod, Virginia,
including the brackish James River, down to both coasts of Florida.
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| First time in Lake Superior! |
My children
have picked up this compulsion (it obviously didn’t originate with me) even going
so far as to take their first swim in Lake Superior
last month. The only kind of
disappointment that I enjoy hearing from my children is when they don’t want to
get out of the water when it has become time to depart. I pray my grandchildren will be the same way.
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| Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore |
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| Exploring a shipwreck at PRNL |
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| Pictured Rocks NL |
So why does
water pull me so? Who needs to think
about it? Come on, the water looks
good. I bet I can go under before you
can.
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