Roaring waters

The Kettle River, which is in the Upper St. Croix watershed in Minnesota, peaked at a record gauge height of 17.93 feet early in the morning of June 22. Normal height is probably around 6-7 feet. I had some time the evening before to check out the river at one of my favorite spots, the old Sandstone dam site. A hydroelectric dam created a reservoir upstream before it was removed in 1994. The removal of the dam revealed a waterfall, Big Spring Falls, which is shown in the first video. The second video shows the actual site of the old dam.

When the dam was removed, the sediment that had built up behind the dam for nearly a hundred years washed downstream. While dam removal is generally a good thing for river ecosystems, the sediment in this case filled up deep holes downstream that were once habitat for lake sturgeon, which is listed as a species of special concern in Minnesota. While this record river level was not a good thing for some people who lived near the river upstream (people who never had any reason to believe their homes would ever be threatened by the river), this surge of water just may wash out some of the fine sediment and restore some of the sturgeon holes.

At Big Spring Falls, I saw reminders of when water levels were even higher, thousands of years ago, creating cuts and kettles in the sandstone bedrock. The roar of water on rock drowned out every other sound and engulfed me, much like the roar of ocean waves. A dreadful and amazing sound.

energy

I found a rock ledge today, perched on a slope some 50 feet above the Kettle River. It is just yards away from a major trail, but yet it is hidden from view. It was just me and the rock and the river. I sat in a sort of meditation for a while, then I wrote. I will share what I wrote, unedited.

I am hidden from the world of humans. Down a rocky slope towards the river, underneath a sandstone ledge that long ago broke away from the hillside. It was the work of the water, the water that carved the valley, the water that now rushes far below. The leaves, beginning to show hues of soft yellow and blushes of red, come and go. Trees anchor their roots in rock crevices. The water still does its work. I feel its energy in the sound. If there were no sound, that is if I had no ears to hear, I would still feel the dull roar as it echoes off the sandstone behind me. The leaves turn sunlight into energy, the water finds power in the pull of gravity, even the bonds that hold the rock together are energy on another scale. 

Here I am rock. I am leaf. I am water.

september

I have been easing back in to the routine of kids going to school, and me picking kids up from various activities. Vinny decided to play football after all, and Nina is playing volleyball, so after I get off work at 4:30 I usually end up doing errands and then waiting until about 6 when they are done with practice. When the weather is nice, and there are no games to watch, I've been spending my time at Banning State Park, which surrounds the school grounds. This has become one of my favorite places. The Kettle River cuts through a sandstone gorge, creating amazing rock formations. I like to walk down by the river, or sometimes I find a rock outcrop high above the river and I sit and read, write, or just unwind. I would hesitate to call what I do meditation, although I am trying to learn meditation and make it a part of my life. Life is just so noisy, so chaotic, sometimes I need to quiet the thoughts that keep racing around in my mind. The river, with its constant rushing and tumbling on rocks, helps.