Down by the Banks

In Michigan, they say that you’re never more than five miles away from a major source of water. Water is a source of vibrancy, verdancy, and vivacity. Streams and river flow through forests, hubs of life that are vital to any ecosystem. The freshwater sources we have in Michigan support life from the smallest insect to moose and other large herbivores to bears and pumas. The entire life cycle can be encapsulated by a gently flowing stream.

              My family owns a fairly large tract of wilderness, and I spent my childhood clambering all over every inch of it. The entire property is webbed with streams; little things that are a foot and half deep at most, barely puddles in some areas. However, when my cousins and I played on their banks, they were vast rivers, luxurious pools, and bottomless oceans. We would sit in the grass, dangling our bare feet in the cool water, feeling it slick past our feet on its way to some unknown destination. We built forts and bases all along them, feeling all the world like pioneers along the banks of the Mississippi. Other times we were fairies, dipping our feet in the water and pretending flowers grew where we walked. These streams were a huge part of my childhood, and the life that sprung up around them shaped me as a human being. Without them, I would have grown up vastly different. I relate to the trees because I, too, grew and was nourished by the streams and ponds that flow through my childhood home. My relationship to nature was entirely shaped by the streams that I call home.