BY LESLIE REGO
I have been reading “Meditations,” written by Marcus Aurelius (121-180 A.D.), who was the ruler of the Roman Empire for almost two decades. In book four, meditation 43, Aurelius writes, “Time is like a river made up of the events which happen, and a violent stream; for as soon as a thing has been seen, it is carried away, and another comes in its place, and this will be carried away too.”
Very true year-round, but particularly in the early summer when the waters cascade fast and fierce. Due to the runoff from the melting of the winter snow, the streams in the mountains are robust. I am traversing logs and jumping stones to cross swirling water. I am still trudging though snow on trails that would normally be clear.
I arrive at my destination and find a log to use as a seat to observe the outlet of the lake. The water exits, gushing in a “violent” stream, and in its fervor to get downhill, surges around and over stones. This snowmelt water holds the memories of the crushed leaves from autumn, the powerful and mellow snowstorms, and the multilayer life within the lake. The rushing water is part of the daily existence of the fish, the aquatic larva, and zooplankton. These are the yearly circular events—phenomena that the water is privy to, but which we experience only a few months out of the year.
How many momentous happenings has the stream seen and quickly carried away? I think about this as I watch the water tumble down the boulder-strewn channel. Perhaps this segment of water carries the winter storms from February. The water rushes by, only to be replaced by the waters of the storms from March, which in turn is carried away by another event, and so on and so on.
We sprint through our days, our intricately faceted life, barely having time to register one occasion before we are on to the next adventure. Are we like this stream? Is our life a domino effect of events that have happened, the next ones tumbling on the heels of the previous one?
I slow down and watch the waters. I visualize what their winter life must have been like. I breathe deeply and the moment extends even though the waters move along at a quick pace.
Leslie Rego is an Idaho Press Club award-winning columnist, artist and Blaine County resident. To view more of Rego’s art, visit leslierego.com.
