The River
The Jock River flows very
lazily through Richmond, Ontario, my home
town. It did a poor job of living up to the
nickname everyone gave it - "the mighty
Jock". Nevertheless, parents warned
children not to stray too close for fear of them
falling in.
My mother told me never to go to the river, but alas the way was too easy and tempting. All I had to do was walk through the Chenier development out back of our house and follow the path from last house on Evelyn Street to the river bank.
I remember doing this more than once when I was barely old enough to be wandering the neighbourhood alone. I clearly remember walking through the trees and emerging at the river, standing in the tall grass and looking down into the water that was so languidly flowing by and wondering why mom thought it was so dangerous...
I didn't tell her about those solo adventures until she was in her seventies and I in my forties. I thought she was going to duff me even then! She did wonder why I went against her warnings and wandered down there all alone.
To this day I don't know exactly why. Simple curiosity I guess.
Maybe something more. It was so quiet and peaceful there - as if no human had ever seen it before.
I remember standing there in my overalls, taking in the sounds of birds, bugs and water, the smell of earth and grass, and murky river, and sensing peace. It was a peace too profound for a child to process, but easy for a child to love and want to revisit.
My mother told me never to go to the river, but alas the way was too easy and tempting. All I had to do was walk through the Chenier development out back of our house and follow the path from last house on Evelyn Street to the river bank.
I remember doing this more than once when I was barely old enough to be wandering the neighbourhood alone. I clearly remember walking through the trees and emerging at the river, standing in the tall grass and looking down into the water that was so languidly flowing by and wondering why mom thought it was so dangerous...
I didn't tell her about those solo adventures until she was in her seventies and I in my forties. I thought she was going to duff me even then! She did wonder why I went against her warnings and wandered down there all alone.
To this day I don't know exactly why. Simple curiosity I guess.
Maybe something more. It was so quiet and peaceful there - as if no human had ever seen it before.
I remember standing there in my overalls, taking in the sounds of birds, bugs and water, the smell of earth and grass, and murky river, and sensing peace. It was a peace too profound for a child to process, but easy for a child to love and want to revisit.
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