River’s Up

The city of Idaho Falls, Idaho is aptly named for the beautiful step-down falls it surrounds. So the other day, when I found myself with an extra hour before heading back to the airport, I went down to the river walk to stroll along and enjoy the view.  I’m so glad I did.

This stretch of the Snake River holds a special place in my heart. I was stationed here for Navy training all those years ago; it was a hard winter. I used to love watching the water flow through and around and over and even under while the ice formed a cracked crust over a crazy quilt filling of boulders. That was a tough time in my life, as I went through my first breakup, followed closely by the particularly bloody suicide of a friend in front of me. And all this against the background of some fairly difficult academics and a weird, rotating shift schedule.

Being back here after all these years brought the memories flooding back. It was poignant and a little strange. I sat on a park bench not fifteen feet from the flood-stage Snake and it tumbled by, just as it has done for every second of every day of each of the (is it thirty-eight?) years since I’d last been this close to the great river. I’m humbled by this river and yet, it feels somehow like home.

The last time I sat here I was going through tough times and it was calming to listen to the moving water. People leave you alone here, probably in tacit recognition of its status as a communal private place.

It’s the same today. People walk past and nod or smile but don’t interrupt. We all draw something from the river. Or maybe, understanding that we’ve all come here for the same sort of reassurance, we draw something from each other without the need for spoken language.