The River

On calm early mornings at the river’s surface, a most astonishing event transpires. As the sun rises to spread its warmth and light, the brume blanketing the water starts loosening its grip. It hangs surprisingly still above the river currents like it has been pasted in place, seemingly unaffected by the water’s movement. But that is an illusion that is soon dispelled.

As the sun begins to melt away the condensation and warm the liquid veneer below, the clinging mist scatters, fleeing before the light slowly at first and then in an accelerating frenzy. The rising air temperature and movement coupled with the water’s temperature and flow generates isolated clouds of fog that hang on while the wider veil of vapor evaporates. As this process continues, these clouds are reduced further until they appear as floating cotton balls over the riverscape that has emerged into view. They retreat to collect in the shadows and shaded areas and hide from the sun but as the sun climbs higher, there is no escaping its influence.

These mini nebulas begin to spin as the increasing warmth stirs them to action. Minute vortices appear by the dozens, in the hundreds, and rotate faster as they leave their hiding places and start dancing and running across the river. Faster and faster they twirl, their forms becoming clearer, more defined. They spin at surprising speed, their tails still anchored to the river and their mouths opening wider, tiny tornadoes twirling like the spirits of little children with their arms open wide and their mouths agape with laughter. Robed in rainbow colors, the sun lights them in a dizzying array of refractions and reflections. Reaching a fevered pitch, these glowing, frenzied whirlwinds rotate gleefully, swirling and twirling until finally leaping into the air and vanishing into the luminous aether.

Watching them go brings pangs of sadness that such a spellbinding experience should be so transient. But we know that this performance will be repeated day after day and we only need to arrive on time to our front row seat to enjoy it again.

Life on a healthy river is unlike life anywhere else and the magic is manifold. This example is just one of many. These photos show a few more.