We swam in the river this afternoon, or maybe I should say that we became part of the river for an hour. We were prodded to the cold water by a hot and humid day, one that made me dream of sipping lemonade in a rocking chair on a porch, but I was satisfied by a plastic lounge chair underneath the shade of an Asturian Horreo.
At the Río Sama, we plunged into the perfect swimming hole at the base of a short waterfall that is surrounded by green on all sides: a vibrant pasture on one bank, ferns and low undergrowth on the other, and a canopy of maple, hazelnut, and other young trees. The diversity of leaf shapes and patterns against the backdrop of a gentle blue sky startled my concrete-ridden brain and reminded me of the perfection of nature.
The scents of warm grass, distant cows, and mossy rocks culminated into a fragrance I’d call “Alive.” At first, I had a desire to play or do something with my hands, but the more I was there, the more I could just “be.” As I carefully picked my way down the shallow parts of the river, I couldn’t help but feel a profound sense of aliveness and gratitude for the light playing shadow games with the ripples, the perfect earth tones of the stones, and the sun warming my cooled body. My companions were also quiet, each of us enjoying and observing the river around us on our own. Sometimes I love the roar of a creek over anything else; I believe it’s a good experience to be in a space without trying to change it or yourself. Are there words to describe this river ecosystem that uses none?
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