Whitson River’s Wisdom

By Holly B. Gutwillinger

The Whitson River spans and curves for miles at the end of a small northern town. Although not wide, the water’s presence is absolute, and its mood shifts regularly. The cloudy yet flowing waters provide a home to a diverse ecosystem and follow the landscape, where I make my home. The many river and land creatures who inhabit its terrain seek its properties to survive, while I look to the water to nourish my soul. For many moons, I have depended on this waterway for solace, and I frequent it often when seeking its counsel. Today, I would find more than crickets and toads by the shoreline. I would come to reconnect with someone I had longed to see for years.

Earlier in the morning, I startled myself awake. I was relieved to know everything was as I’d left it the night before, yet I had a nagging sensation. Unable to remember the details, I carried on with my morning routine, trying to shake off the unsettling feeling.

Dreams can frustrate like that; they come and go without leaving a trace or tease you with small snippets of movie-like reels that have no ending. The dream faded, and it was time to get the day underway. Confused as I was, I knew where to go in moments like these.

I walked out the door and made my way to the river beyond the backyard. The water never disappointed, and I considered it a friend of sorts, one that was familiar with me, listened intently and never offered judgment. From turbulence to tranquillity, I knew how to read the waves, and we had developed a kinship in which I could decipher the water’s mood in how it moved. Its fast-flowing pace mirrored my sentiments, while on other days, it calmed my spirit.

Sitting by the river’s edge, listening to the water slap the jagged rock repeatedly, I continued to gather my thoughts.

I offered the river my hopes and dreams and waited for its response, but I never could have imagined the answer gifted to me that late morning. Minutes turned to hours as I watched small creatures swim and splash in the waves, enjoying their space.

I drifted into a dreamlike state. I witnessed the breeze dissipate and come to a standstill, while the waves slowly stopped. Silence slipped through the spaces of time, except for the sweet singsong of the birds in the treetops.

In that moment, I felt a presence, similar to the feeling I’d woken up with earlier in the morning. Moments passed until I made the connection. With tears in my eyes, I realized the person in my dream was the one I’d longed to spend more time with. I saw a vision of my younger self dipping her toe in the water, and then I realized I could always find her again and reconnect to my true self.

I just needed to quiet myself long enough to listen.

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