Is a River Alive?

A small 'self' suffers and causes suffering, [while] a love of the living world lets single identities and selfhoods expand and encompass other beings, entities and whole landscapes, such that the self becomes a spacious thing.

The river is time, and we are always within it -- even when we think we’re standing dry-footed on the bank, watching the current pass.

In English there is no verb "to river". But what could be more of a verb than a river?

Spring becomes stream becomes river, and all three seek the sea.

Our fate flows with that of rivers –– and always has.

River's song is the song of songs, sung in spirals and stars and roars and other notes beyond hearing...

Hope is the thing with rivers.

Ideas move in space and time. They swim like fish. They drift like pollen. They migrate like birds. Sometimes their movement carries them right around the world, and they find new niches in which to flourish.

In Orange County, Florida (Seminole Territory), for instance, the rights of Lake Mary Jane have been asserted. The White Earth Band of Ojibwe has campaigned for the rights of manoomin (wild rice); the Sauk-Suiattle Tribe has successfully fought for the recognition of the rights of Tsuladxw (Pacific salmon); and a major campaign to recognize the rights of the ecologically stricken Great Salt Lake was under way until the Utah State Legislature, rattled by the campaign, passed a House bill prohibiting the granting of legal personhood to any natural entities.

Meaning, as well as water, can be impounded: can still and settle behind dam walls of thought.

The ghosts of rivers lie all about us.

A hypothesis: Earth and River are both gods made of time, but even Earth has cause to fear River.

Rivers are easily wounded, but given a chance they heal themselves with remarkable speed. Their life *pours* back.

Alles op aarde beschikt over een geest en een leven, of het nu bezield is of niet. Die geest is kenmerkend voor die resolutie. Ross Montour, zoals geciteerd door Robert Macfarlane

In English, there is no verb ‘to river’. But what could be more of a verb than a river?

But here in Ennore Creek, people have been deprived of the ability to dream. At one meeting we held, when I asked what they would want for the future here in the Ennore Creek, a villager replied, “We’re all getting cancer. It would be nice if we just got asthma.” That was her dream. Asthma rather than cancer. Another time we asked a group of fishermen to speak of their dreams for the Ennore Creek, but they said it was too difficult here to dream.

We are always launched upon the river, already afloat on the flow.