the river

when i was a little girl i loved playing at the creek with my brother
we would catch crayfish, sometimes torment them a bit
poke sticks in puddles
watch pollywogs, crouched like tigers as we watched with amazement as they changed before our eyes
get lost in our thoughts as we blazed trails and got covered in burrs
throw rocks just because it felt good to throw rocks
watch the minnows
and generally just fuck around until the streetlights came on
and it was time to go home

my dad grew up near the river thames, where we live
but even when he was a kid it was already deemed polluted
so he never swam in it
he had a better relationship with the train tracks than the river..

in the turmoil of my life i rediscovered the river
where i walked ella this morning
i remembered playing with such joy in the sunshine at lake huron, lake erie, lake superior, lake ontario, countless lakes in the muskokas, rivers across ontario and the world...

and i realize that i have always been drawn to water....to paddle, to splash, to rinse, to refresh, to wash, to drink, to peace

and so i guess it doesn't surprise me when I stand with standing rock and all indigenous struggles everywhere.

because their struggle is the human struggle. it's our struggle. corporate greed, not beautiful fish, must die.

And I believe. I believe. that we are waking up and that we are going to save our precious water, and every memory that it holds as it ebbs and flows..... in solidarity, ALL MY RELATIONS.