I’m used to rivers that know what they’re doing.
I love ancient, meandering rivers! It’s got bow lakes and terminated meanders and EVERYTHING! So pretty!
Rivers are paintings of the vagarities of time, etched in constant motion. The wearing down of the thin places, the building up of sediment. Both constant, consistent, and changing each second, like identity. The micro decisions made, the shortcuts we take, the things that pass through us, they form our timelines, our identity, our paths, just as surely. The wrinkles on my face, my grey hairs, my scars, yes, but where I am, my geographic location. My career and my family and my friends, what I do each day is both informed by these things, and the result of countless microdecisions or indecisions.
Yes, feels about rivers all of a sudden.