Poem: Catching Eddies #the100dayproject Day 76

Catching Eddies 

A river does not always flow to the ocean, 

sometimes the ocean flows into the river. 

Other times, the river flows against gravity, 

swirls in pools, circles and recirculates. 

Until you see it for yourself, you won’t believe me, 

but if it is strong enough it will grab your edges, 

twist you and try to flip you over. 

We call them eddies and they are not beholden 

to the main river current, as kayakers, 

we have a pastime of catching eddies, 

as if we use nets to catch butterflies. 

Eddies slow us down in a massive rapid, 

they allow us to pace our river running, 

we swing into the slow-moving eddy 

when all around us is gushing whitewater 

over sharp rocks and downed trees. 

The moment our boat is in an eddy’s grip 

it will suck us up river as if pulled by a rope. 

An eddy doesn’t just exist, it is made. 

Born out of the water flowing over rocks 

and other river debris, the water that trails 

behind the object falls with such hydraulic force 

that the water swirls, circles and boils 

creating a recycling effect. 

If the water flows over something large enough, 

the eddy can turn into a massive amount of water 

moving upstream that catches and spins you 

like a teacup at a country fair. 

This is the physics of the river,  

where water can feel like flying on air, 

where your paddle can disappear, 

where you can disappear under the water, 

sucked down to be recirculated, 

if there is an eddy, a hole can be near, 

eager to pull you down into the water 

and keep you until you can’t hold your breath 

any longer. Any kayaker knows that feeling, 

the water pressing down on you,  

pushing you to the bottom of darkness. 

Water holds both life and chaos, 

it smells like wet earth, warm and humid, 

when you are caught in a hole, time adapts, 

changes and seconds turn into hours. 

You pull your skirt, let go of your paddle, 

you give up and let the water flounder your whole body, 

but even then, in those final seconds, 

the water has no remorse, no conscious, 

it continues to form its own rules, 

and with no luck or movement of the universe, 

just as it sucked you in and wouldn’t let you go, 

it pushes you out with its cold indifference, 

you break its surface and gasp for air, 

your whole body shaking, your lungs like hands 

grasping for purchase from this wonderful thing called air.