Do rivers have anniversaries? #phenology

Autumn colors have come on strong in the local maple leaves during the past few days. The Better Half noticed some color change in the local tamaracks, preceding leaf drop later this season. Still haven't found any neighborhood woolly bear caterpillars, although several days of rain may have washed all of them downstream.

Speaking of "downstream," yesterday afternoon we briefly stopped by the WaterShed Cafe for a meet and greet with Julie Galonska, the recently appointed Superintendent of the St. Croix National Scenic Riverway. In the near future, the St. Croix will begin celebration of its part in the 50th anniversary of the federal Wild & Scenic Rivers Act. We're looking forward to seeing and participating in what the Park Service and their partners come up with.

St. Croix, early October

Photo by J. Harrington

It's been many years since we first read Roderick Haig-Brown's classics, Fisherman's Fall and Fisherman's Spring. Haig-Brown's home water was the Campbell River. Ours is now the St. Croix. We know of no one who has written about the St. Croix the way Haig-Brown has written about the Campbell, or the way Norman Maclean has written about the Blackfoot River. Nor have we found much, other than Haig-Brown, that describes the seasons of a river and the phenology that accompanies those seasons. Maybe that's something we could work on over the next year or so to help the St. Croix celebrate its anniversary.

[UPDATE: The Better Half reminds us of Noah Adams' St. Croix Notes. We pulled our copy to refresh our recollections. As we recall, the river itself is a relatively minor character, but the framework does reflect the seasons in the valley.]

 where water comes together with other water

by Raymond Carver

I love creeks and the music they make.
And rills, in glades and meadows, before
they have a chance to become creeks.
I may even love them best of all
for their secrecy. I almost forgot
to say something about the source!
Can anything be more wonderful than a spring?
But the big streams have my heart too.
And the places streams flow into rivers.
The open mouths of rivers where they join the sea.
The places where water comes together
with other water. Those places stand out
in my mind like holy places.
But these coastal rivers!
I love them the way some men love horses
or glamorous women. I have a thing
for this cold swift water.
Just looking at it makes my blood run
and my skin tingle. I could sit
and watch these rivers for hours.
Not one of them like any other.
I'm 45 years old today.
Would anyone believe it if I said
I was once 35?
My heart empty and sere at 35!
Five more years had to pass
before it began to flow again.
I'll take all the time I please this afternoon
before leaving my place alongside this river.
It pleases me, loving rivers.
Loving them all the way back
to their source.
Loving everything that increases me. 

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