Thanks, River in anticlimatic

boy posing with his dog, 1882

The river that used to power my town sneaks along on the other side of the street from my house. It runs from Walloon lake, which is a small inland lake, through a swamp, and town, and finally dumps into Lake Michigan. Enough water flowed year round back in the day, that early settlers dammed it up in 5 places to power mills. The entire area was industrial wasteland until the 70s, when the last functioning dam finally gave out, and a massive city initiative was undertaken- mostly by volunteers- to clean the blight up with the hope of returning the area to the pristine nature that it was before the settlers arrived in the mid 1800s.

The cleanup was a huge success, and in the time since, the entire river valley that runs through the heart of town grew up into a lush green paradise with tall looming trees in thick groves. No more flat slag wastelands, collapsed factories, and abandoned rail. There are paths now where the tracks used to be- some dirt, some paved with benches for cyclists. Very popular, and well used.

The river is not particularly large. Perhaps the width of a two-car driveway, and only a few feet deep in most areas that aren’t rushing current. But just this year I discovered along one of the slightly less popular dirt/boardwalk paths that runs right along the lowest shore of the river, a spot where the water circled out around a large cluster of rocks, creating a pool deep enough to submerge in, a mere 5 minute stroll from my front door.

Today I visited my little dipping pool for the 5th time since I discovered it. Wore my bathing suit down and carried a towel around my neck. Felt incredible slipping into the cool moving water on such a bizarrely hot day, after a long afternoon of hiking around town collecting groceries while waiting on word from the shop on the status of my ailing Truck. I’m not sure if swimming in the river, especially right next to a public path, is “allowed,” but I dare anyone to stop me. A place to get in fresh water this close to my house is a dream come true.

After I dunk and push my hair back over my head and swipe the water from my face I just sit there in the little hole with water up to my chest, paying attention to the wet chill spreading slowly to my bones. It’s such an exquisite feeling. Hardest thing to part with, come Autumn proper.